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JOHN A. WILSON. 



ADVENTURES 



-or- 



ALF. AVILSON 



A THRILLING EPISODE 



-OP THE- 



DARK DAYS OF THE REBELLION 



3feT 

JOHN At WILSON, 

w 

A Member of the Mitchell Railroad Raidtrt. 










TOLEDO: 

Blade Printing & Paper Company. 

1880. 



VnIT^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1880, by 

J. A. WILSON, 
iu the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, D. 0. 



PERSONAL. 



FTER the following chapters of this book were in typoy 
and I thought my work completed, I received notice from 
the printers that two pages of space had been left for an 
author's preface, and a request that I should forward the same 
without delay. 

As book-making is regulated by established customs, I sup- 
pose, that in order to please the printers and conform to these 
old established usages, I ought to fill these two pages with an 
apology for writing a book, or, rather, for my unfitness for 
such work. I have, in this connection, only this consoling 
thought to offer the reader— that had I been a better book- 
maker, I miglit have been less a IMitchell raider. 

Originally, the following chapters of this book were intended 
solely for publication in the local newspaper of my own 
county. My friends and old army comrades, after reading 
them, as they appeared from week to week, said they were 
interesting and advised me to pubHsh them in book form, and 
here it is. If it does not meet the requirements of the critics, 
let them bear in mind that it is simply the story of a private 
soldier, told in plain words, by one who aspires to no literary 
honors, who claims no credit for martyrdom, whose deeds did 
not change the tide of a single battle, nor to any act of soldierly 
gallantry. None of these are mine. I may say, too, incident- 
ally, that stealing and wrecking a railroad, even in case of 

(3) 



IV- PERSONAL. 

those who succeed, is not considered an unusual occurrence, 
not even in times of peace, and does not usually furnish mate- 
rial for a book ; but in this case there are a few circumstances, 
incidents and accidents not connected with common occurrences 
of the kind. I am not, however, aware, to this day, what 
effect our . efforts had, if any, on the stock of the Georgia 
Central Railroad ; yet, had we succeeded, I do not think it 
would have been beneficial to the owners at that time. I need 
not, perhaps, say to the reader, iiut I never have had any 
further desire to engage in railroad enterprises, and all the 
credit I claim for myself, in this expedition, is that I believe 
I cheated the rebels out of the pleasure of hanging me, and 
did all in my power to carry out tlie orders of my General, 
and tried to serve my country faithfully. 

I can not conscientiously close -.v iiiout first acknowledging 
valuable assistance from C. W. Evora, of tlie Wood County 
Sentinel, Bowling Green, Ohio, and to F. J. Oblinger, of the 
Toledo Bee; also to 'my comrade ' .;<lers, Robert Parrot, of 
Kenton, Ohio, William J. Knight, oi North Pacific Junction, 
Minnesota, and also to comral^- '•■liam Pittengor's Book, 
^'Daring and Suffering,'''' for several pt>iuts that had escaped 
my memory. 

JOHN A. WILSON. 

Haskins, Ohio, April 28, 1880. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

First Meeting of the Raiders near Shelby ville — Tlieir Names — 
Putting on Citizens' Clothes — Andrews, the Federal Spy — 
Final Instructions and Farevv^eil by General Mitchell — Off 
to Dixie — Heavy Rains and Freshets in the Rivers — "Meet- 
ing Up " with a True Union Man — An Old Rebel Colonel — 
A Confederate Spy — Crossing the Cumberland Mountains — 
Safe Arrival at Chattanooga — One Day Behiiid Time — Off 
to Marietta by Rail 15 

CHAPTER II. 

Safe Arrival at Marietta — On Board the Morning Express — 
Porter and Hawkins Get Left — Capturing the Train at Big 
Shanty — A Bewildered Multitude of Rebels — We Pull Out 
Lively — Cutting Telegraph Wires — Tearing up Railroad Ti'ack 
— The PowTler Train Story — Hindered by Dovvn Trains Flee- 
ing from General Mitchell — Pursued by a Locomotive — A 
Railroad Race for Life or Death — Vain Efforts to Impede 
Pursuit — Trying to Burn a Bridge — Throwing Off Ties on 
the Track — A Reckless and Devil-may-care Race 26 

CHAPTER III. 

Run Down at Last — We Jump the Train and Fly to the Woods 
under Musketry Fire — How the Chase was Made — The Obsta- 
cles We Had to Encounter — Sensational Rebel Account of the 
Whole Affair — The Confederacy Badly " Shook Up." 39 

CHAPTER IV. 

"Nip and Tuck " — A Grand Old ♦* Yankee " Man-Hunt— Citizens, 
Soldiers and Dogs Join the Chase — Mark Wood and I Squat 
in a Little Brush Pile —" Ticklish " Situation for Thirty -Six 
Hours — Escape to the I\Iountains — Discovered by Women in 
a Fodder-Pile — We Teil a Plausible Stoiy — Another Lynx- 

(5) 



•VI CONTENTS. 

Eyed Woman — "You Are Union Men; You Can't Fool 
Me." 53 

CHAPTER V. 

Captured by Old Snow's Cavalry — A Deceptive Story that 
Wins — A Terrible Risk — A Red-Hot Rebel Lecture — Again 
in the Mountains — A Loyal Woman in the Case, and Her 
No Less Loyal Husband — "I Knew You Were Union Men 
all the Time " — Night March with a Guide — Stealing a Boat 
— Safe Arrival on the Tennessee River — Night of Terror on 
the Tennessee i 65 

CHAPTER VI. 
Running t)y Chattanooga — A Dangerous Voyage — Taking On 
a Pilot — A Terrific Ride — Hailed by Rebel Cavalry — Recon- 
noitering a Rebel Camp at Bridgepoi-t — A Rebel Stampede — 
Arrival at Stevenson — Fatal Mistake — Captured within Seven 
Miles of Mitchell's Lines— Sent to Bridgeport under Guard. 83 

CHAPTER VII. 

Strongly Guarded— General Leadbetter at Bridgeport— Red-Hot 
Interview with the Scoundrel— A Blustering Braggart and an 
Arrant Coward — Taken Back to Chattanooga — " The Hole " — 
Old Swims, the Jailer — A Horrible, Loathsome Pit 91 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Horror upon Horrors — Loathsome Corn-bread and Rotten Meat — 
Odors Most Foul — Fetters, Vennin and Darkness — Parallel with 
the Black Hole of Calcutta — The Boom of Mitchell's Cannon — 
A Night of Anxiety — Sad Disappointment — Oif to Atlanta — A 
Bloodthirsty Mob Clamoring for our Lives — Landed in Better 
Quarters at Madison — Visited by a Union Spy — The Spy's Nar- 
row Escai)e — Back to our Chattanooga Prison — The Heroic Lad, 
Jacob Parrott, Bnitally Whipped on the Naked Back 100 

CHAPTER IX. 

Planning to Escape — Night Fixed upon for the Attempt — Twelve 
of the Train-Thieves Sent to Knoxville for Trial — Andrews' 
Death-Warrant — Preparations to Break Jail — Andrews, the 
Spy, and John Wollam Escape — The Guards Aroused — Andrews' 
Wanderings and Terrible Sufferings— Three Days Almost Naked 



CONTENTS. Vll 

— Hecaptured — Brought Back to Prisc«i More Dead than 
Alive 116 

CHAPTER X. 

Our Brave and Noble Leader^ His Impending Doom — All 
Taken to Atlanta Again — Last Advice and Counsel from 
Andrews — Dying the Death of a Spy— The Terrible Tragedy 
Consummated — Wollam Recaptured — Account of his Adven- 
tures — Mark Wood's Sickness — Pinchings of Hunger —Arrival 
of our Comrades from KnoxviUe— The Old ViUain, Thor— Pre- 
pai-ing Seven of our Comrades for the Gallows 129 

CHAPTER XI. 

Painful Reflections — Brave Bearing of the Doomed Seven — 
*' Tell Them I Died for My Country"— Poor John Scott — 
Wilson's Dying Speech— Bmtal Scene— Rope Breaks with Two 
—Seven Murdered Heroes— Southern Barbarity— An Afternoon 
Never to be Forgotten— Solemn Hours in Prison— A Night of 
Prayer— Captain David Fry— A Christian Hero— A Rebel Minis- 
ter—Letter Sent to Jeff Davis and its Probable Result 142 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Jail at Atlanta — Preparations to Break Jail — Expecting 
an Order for Our Execution — Busy Preparations for Escape — 
Prayer for Deliverance— The Last Desperate Chance— The Criti- 
cal Moment— Fighting the Guards — Away We Go— The Pur- 
suit.... 154 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Eluding Pursuit — Crossing the Line of Rebel Guards — Discour- 
aging Journey before Us — Paroxysm of Joy — Striking Out for 
the Gulf — We Reach the Chattahooche, and Hope Springs Up 
Anew — We Find a Boat and are Soon GUding Down the River 

Gulfward 166 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Pangs of Hunger — Visions of Feasting — We Must Have 
Food — Visit a Rebel Planter's House — Get a Good Meal— 
Mark Gets to "the End of the River" — A Mysterious Noise- 
Reckless Run Over a Mill-Dam— Mark Falls in the River — A 
Toilsome Lund Joumey of Three Days and Nights — Passing 



viii CONTENTS. 

Columbus — The Rebel Ram Cliattahooche —Capture Another 
Boat — Soon Exchange It for a Better One— Pursued by Its 
Owners — Feeding on Corn and Pumpkin Seeds — Mosquitoes, 
Snakes and Alligators 177 

CHAPTER XV. 
Go After a Meal — Our Boat is Stolen — Feelings of Despair — 
Night of Gloom — Dangerous Method of Securing Another Boat 
— Complete Success— Feast on Raw Cat-fish— Nearing the Gulf 
— Appalachicola — A Royal Feast on Cooked Fish and Roasted 
Sweet Potatoes— Going Dow^n the Bay— Looking for the Block- 
ading Fleet— The Federal Fleet in the Distance — Thrilling, 
Rapturous Sight— The Old Flag Once More 193 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Hailed by the Commander of the Blockading Fleet — A Gruff 
Reception — Explanation of Our Appearance — Changed De- 
meanor of the Commander — Our Cadaverous Condition — 
Rage of the Old Sea Veteran, Commander J. F. Grossman — 
A Kind and Noble Man — The Substantial Welcome Given Us 

We Start for Key West — Yellow Jack Catches Me — Key 

"VVfest — The ' ' Conchs " — A Marked Contrast 203 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Port Royal — Death of General O. M. Mitchell — Memories of 
the Past — Characteristics of Successful Generalship — General 
Mitchell's Confidence in the Success of the Enterprise — Steam- 
ing to New York with the Body of General Mitchell — Our 
Cordial Reception — Arrival at Washington — Caught without 
a Pass and Imprisoned — A Note to the President — Immediate 
Release — Introduced to President Lincoln — An Interesting Inter- 
view^ -- 213 

CHAPTER XVIIL 

EUituming to the Regiment — Back to the Army of the Cum- 
berland — The Greeting of Old Comrades — Meeting with 
Captain Fry — History of Different Members of Our Party — 
Interesting Account from Wm. J. Knight — J. R. Porter's 
Account — Whereabouts of other Comrades of the Expedition 
— A Few Words Personal — Medal and Extra Pay — Concluding 
Words— A Hope that the Spirit of RebeUion is at an End.. 223 



INTRODUCTION. 



^j^N the quiet little village of Haskins, Wood (Juiiiity, Ohioy 
^ lives the subject of these adventures — a modest, quiets 
unpretentious gentleman, a good citizen, in w^hose outward 
appearance and actions there is nothing to indicate to the 
casual observer that he was one of a band of men of more 
than Spartan valor, who, in the midst of one of the darkest, 
periods of the nation's annals, participated in one of the most 
thrilling incidents of a gigantic war — a war whose history is 
one of Titanic death-struggles, wliere thousands of brave men^ 
with the most improved contrivances and implements of war- 
fare of modern times, strove for the mastery — a war marked 
from beginning to end with startling dramatic acts of adven- 
ture and heroism, unsurpassed in the annals of the world. The 
ancient chroniclers of Greece and Rome tell us of prodigious 
feats of valor in arms, while the historian of modern times 
excites our admiration with the military genius of Napoleon 
and the braver}^ and devotion of his marshals and soldiers. The 
legends of Scotland teem with the stories of patriotism, devo- 
tion, and self-sacrifice of that brave people ; but it is no dis- 
paragement to say of all these that in acts of patriotism,, 
devotion, daring, endurance, and all the qualities which go to 
make the soldier, history gives no account of men superior to- 
those developed by the war of the American Rebellion. Lord 
Nelson, the hero of Trafalgar, and the idol of the British 

(ix) 



X INTRODUCTION. 

nation, was not braver than Farragut, lashed to the mast of his 
ship in Mobile Bay, and Cambronne and the Imperial Guard 
at Waterloo wers not braver than Pickett, who led the dread- 
ful charge at Gettysburg, and tlie men who followed him. 

When the actors in the bloody drama of the Rebellion shall 
all have passed away, and jDersonal jealousies and sectional 
animosities liaA'e died out, then will history make an impartial 
award of merits to the actors in that great struggle. Much 
that was real and dreadful will th3n read like fiction and 
romance, as if it had occurred in the days of miracles and 
wonders. The timely arrival oi the little Monitor at Hampton 
Roads, and her combat a,nd miraculous victory over the mon- 
ster iron-clad Merrimac, or th3 providential rain-fall which 
delayed one day Albert Sidney Johnston's attack on Grant at 
Shiloh, thereby saving the Union army, are events so familiar 
to this generation that they seem commonplace ; yet they are 
events, small as they may seem, on which, perhaps, hung the 
fate of the Republic. The Avliole war, from its beginning to 
its close, ending in the tragic death of the Chief Executive of 
the nation, was a succession of startling events, deeds of valor, 
great battles, hard marches, victories, defeats, and adventure 
by land and sea, wliicli put to the sorest test the powers of 
endurance and bravery of the combatants. 

The mettle of the hero of the following pages, although not 
teste4 on the battle-field amid the rattle of musketry, the boom 
of cannon, the shriek of shot and shell, and the soul-inspiring 
strains of martial music, was tried in a crucible where cool- 
ness, courage, fortitude, endurance, valor, nerve that amounted 
almost to sublimity, were called into requisition, and where all 
the ennobling traits of man's highest nature were brought into 
play. This trying ordeal will be fully develoj)ed in the pages 
that follow. 

John A. Wilson was born July 35, 1833, near the town of 



INTRODUCTION. XI 

Worthington, Franklin County, Ohio. When a boy about 
seventeen years of age, he removed with his father, Ezekiel 
Wilson, to Wood County, tlie family locating not far from 
Haskins, where the lad Wilson grew to manhood. 

With the exception of a year's residence in Iowa, and his 
term of army service, Mr. Wilson, or "Alf.," as all his 
acquaintances call him, has since been a resident of Wood 
County. In stature he is medium, weighing, perhaps, one 
hundred and fifty pounds, of rather slender, but wiry, build, 
of nervous temperament, light hair, and bluish grey eyes. In 
his manner he is deliberate, though quick of decision and 
action, and there is that in his appearance that denotes to the 
close observer of human character a fearless determination and 
tenacity of purpose that can not be swerved withouf sufficient 
reason. He is a man somewhat after the old John Brown 
make-up" in tenacity of resolution, belief and purpose. Though 
broken in health, having endured and suffered enough to break 
the strongest constitution, he is yet active in mind and body, 
being one of those persons who will never cease to be active 
until overtaken by the last enemy of mankind. On the sub- 
ject of his many startling adventures, his perilous hardships, 
and hairbreadth escapes, he is usually reticent. V/hen he is 
induced to speak of them, the dark hours of his imprisoimient 
seem to harrow up his feelings to their utmost tension. His 
eyes dance with an unnatural light, he grows excitedly nervous 
over the recollections of that terrible summer, and his every 
action indicates that of a tempest -tossed spirit over the bitter 
memories of the past. Under no other circumstances is this 
state of mental incandescence perceivable with Mr. Wilson. It 
is a matter of no surprise, then, that a man of his tempera- 
ment should so seldom allude to the bitter agonies and har- 
rowing circumstances of that memorable year. 

At the beginning of tlie Rebellion, in 1861, Mr. Wilson 



Xll INTRODUCTION. 

enlisted in C Company, Twenty-First Ohio Volunteer Infantry, 
and the ever-shifting events of the war found the regiment, of 
which Colonel J. S. Norton, now of Toledo, was commander, 
stationed near Shelbyville, Tennessee, and in the army division 
commanded by that enterprising and far-seeing officer, General 
O. M. Mitchell, who was then directing his column to Chatta- 
nooga. This was in April, 1863, and it is at this point that 
the adventures of Mr. Wilson properly begin. In order, how- 
ever, to get a better understanding of the importance of the 
perilous enterprise about to be related, and its direct bearing 
on the gigantic military operations then transpiring, it will be 
well to briefly recapitulate a little of the history of that period. 
General McClellan, at tliat time, was advancing on Rich- 
mond in the east. In the west, General Grant had just gained 
a great victory at Fort Donelson. This defeat of the Confed- 
erates caused them to virtually abandon Kentucky and West- 
em and Middle Tennessee. The Federal forces promptly fol- 
lowed up their advantage and advanced their army up the 
Tennessee River, by gunboats and transports, as far as Pitts- 
burg Landing. To meet this powerful array of the Federal 
armies, the Confederate Generals, Johnson and Beauregard, 
were making superhuman efforts to concentrate a Confederate 
force at Corinth, powerful enough to meet and crush Grant's 
army before it advanced further southward. Troops and sup- 
plies were being hurried forward from all directions ; but 
from no place was the supply so strong and steady as from 
the State of Georgia, the granary of the South. This stream 
of constant supj)ly and fresh levies came from Georgia by the 
Memphis & Charleston Railroad. Corinth, where tlie Rebel 
army lay, is situated on this Railroad, and so is Chattanooga, 
though the two places are a long distance apart. From Chat- 
tanooga south to Atlanta, the heart of Georgia, the traffic was 
over the Georgia State Railroad. Over this Railroad, Georgia 



INTRODUCTION. XllI 

and other portions of the Gulf territory not only sent supplies 
to the Confederate forces preparing for battle at Corinth, but 
over the East Tennessee and Virginia Railroad, by way of 
Chattanooga, to Richmond and to Cumberland Gap, then 
threatened by General George W. Morgan, with a Federal 
division. From this it will be seen that the Georgia State 
Road, from Atlanta and the South, intersecting, as it did at 
Chattanooga, roads running to Virginia and to the west, dis- 
tributing supplies and troops on shortest notice at points where 
most needed, was a most important and essential factor to the 
success of the Confederates, in resisting the great armies which 
menaced them in Virginia and the Gulf States. 

The Federal Generals foresaw the importance of destroying, 
even temporarily, this great artery of supply to the Confeder- 
ates. But to attempt it with a large force would be extremely 
hazardous, as it would necessarily place such force hundreds 
of miles from its base of supplies, and with its line of com- 
munication in the control of the Confederates. 

Some time in March, a noted Union spy, or secret service 
agent, named J. J. Andrews, a Kentuckian by birth, and who 
had repeatedly visited all portions of the South and was thor- 
oughly familiar with the railroad in question, discussed with 
General Mitchell the possibihty of accomplishing the work 
with a secret expedition. General Mitchell soon became inter- 
ested in the bold proposition, and, after due consideration, fell 
in with tlie plan. Eight men voluntarily started out on the 
perilous enterprise, but after an absence of some days, they all 
xetumed without attempting the hazardous undertaking. But 
Andrews Wi\s loth to give up his daring project, and subse- 
quently had a consultation with General Mitchell, in which he 
claimed tliat the project was still feasible. General Mitchell, 
with some misgivings, continued to favor it, because the 
scheme, if successful, would cripple the Confederates and send 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

terror and dismay through the whole Confederacy ; and it was 
one of those problematical, far-reaching undertakings, in which 
this restless officer seemed to dehght. But he did not like the 
possible consequences which might fall on the heads of the 
men who would have to go with Andrews on the dangerous 
expedition, in case of failure. He knew if they were captured 
they would be executed. However, the General gave Andrews 
permission to make the attempt, provided he could find twenty 
men among the regioients of the division who would volun- 
tarily go with him. Tliis, strange as it may seem, was not 
attended with any great trouble, hazardous as was to be the 
service. The army abounded in cool-headed, daring spirits, 
and in a short time the list of volunteers was made up, to the 
number of twenty-four, including Andrews, the leader. 

Such was the origin of one of the most daring exploits con- 
ceived during the "War of the Rebellion — one which for bold- 
ness of design, intrepidity, daring and recklessness, has but 
few parallels in the liistory of ancient or modern warfare. 

Hon. Judge Holt, in his official report as Secretary of "War, 
used these words; "The expedition, in the daring of its con- 
ception, had the wildness of a romance ; while in the gigantic 
and overwhelming results it sought and was likely to accom- 
plish, it was absolutely sublime." 

And with this introduction to the details of this thrilling 
expedition, necessary to a proper understanding of the events 
about to be related, Mr. "Wilson will take up the narrative, 
which has all the sensation of a thrilling romance, and yet in 
which there is not a line that is not true to the letter. 

C, W. E. 



ADVENTURES OF ALF. WILSON. 



CHAPTER I. 



First Meeting of the Raiders near Shelby ville — Their Names — 
Putting on Citizens' Clothes — Andrews, the Federal Spy — 
Final Instructions and Farewell by General Mitchell — We 
Brealc into Squads and are Off to Dixie — Wayside Reflec- 
tions — Heavy Rains and Freshets in the Rivers — "Meeting 
Up" with a True Union Man — Our Story of Deception — An 
Old Rebel Colonel — A Confederate Spy — Crossing the Cum- 
berland Mountains — Safe Arrival at Chattanooga — One Day 
Behind Time — Off to Marietta by Rail. 

*' With years, ye know, have not declined 
My strength, my courage, or my mind, 
Or at this hour I sliould not be 
Telling stories beneath a tree." 

IT was a pleasant day in April in the year 1802, the 
[ ^^Q^y dciy on which the bloody battle of Shiloli was 
fought and won (the Tth), that a party of twenty- 
four men assembled near the old town of Shelbyville, 
Tennessee, and placed themselv^es under the leadership 
of one of their number, J. J. Andrews, a daring and 
successful P'ederal spy and secret service agent. 

These mea, with two exceptions, Avere enlisted 
soldiers, and belon2:ed to the division of General Ormsbv 
M. Mtichell, then encamped about Shelbyville. 

(15) 



16 KOSTEK OF THE 11A.IDER3. 

Their enrollment was as follows : 

J. J. Andrews and William Campbell, citizens of 
Kentucky ; 

Marion A. Ross and E^erry G. Siiadrack, Conripany 
A, Second Reo:iment O. V. I.; 

George D. Wilson, Company B, same regiment ; 

William Pittenoer, Company G, same regiment ; 

J. R. Porter, Mark: Wood and J. A. Wilson, Com- 
j^any C, Twenty-First Regiment O. Y. I.; 

William Knight, Company E, same regiment ; 

AYiLsoN W. Brown, Company F, same regiment; 

William Bensinger, Company G, same regiment ; 

HoBERT BuFFUM, Company H, same regiment; 

John Scott and E. II. Mason, Company K, same 
regiment ; 

M. J. Hawkins, Company A, Thirty -Third Regiment 
O. y. L; 

William Reddick, Company B, same regiment ; 

John Wollam, Company C, same regiment ; 

Sa^^iuel Robinson, Company G, same regiment ; 

D. A. DoRSEv, Company II, same regiment; 

Jacob Parrott, Company K, same regiment; 

Samuel Slavens, same regiment. 

Two others, whose names have escaped my memory, 
started Avith us from Shelbyville, but they reached the 
Tennessee River so far behind the remainder of the 
part}', as I afterwards learned, that they saw their 
services would be of no avail, and the next best thing 
was to return to the Federal lines, if possible. This 
they failed to do, were conscripted into the rebel army, 
and after some time one of them escaped back to the 
Federal camp, which caused suspicion to fall upon his 



ANDREWS, THE SPY. 17 

comrade, who was arrested and afterwards placed in 
prison in Chattanooga. 

The object of our expedition as already foreshadowed, 
was to penetrate the rebel lines to the city of Marietta. 
Georgia, there to secure a train of cars, by fair means 
or by force, and then to run northward toward our own 
lines, burning all the bridges and destroying the road 
in such a manner as to utterly and effectually break al] 
rail communication by this most important railroad to 
the South. To do this successfully it was necessary tc 
disguise ourselves in citizens' clothes. Accordingly, late 
in the afternoon of April 7, we went into the town ol 
Shelbyville and procured suits of clothes, after w^hich 
we assembled at a point designated for our final start. 
"We passed through our line of pickets without difficulty, 
as they had been previously instructed to allow us to 
pass. Soon after passing our pickets we were joined by 
General Mitchell, and after proceeding a short distance 
to a secluded spot, ^ve were halted for final instructions. 
This business over, the good old General took us each 
by the hand and with tearful eyes bade us good-bye, 
saying, as he did so, that he feared he should never see 
us again. 

Before proceeding further, I will briefly describe our 
leader, Andrews. He was a noble specimen of man- 
hood, nearly six feet in height, of powerful build, long 
raven black hair, black silken beard, Roman features, 
a high, expansive forehead, yet with a voice soft and 
gentle as that of a woman. He was a man who com- 
b'ned intelligence and refinement with cool, dauntless 
courage that quailed under no ditnculty or danger. He 
was a man deliberate in speech and calm in manner — 
2 



18 THE START. 

a man well fitted for the clano-erons service he was 
engaged in, though I doubt his entire fitness to coni- 
mand men in sudden and unexpected emergencies. 
However, he shared his chances equally with us, and 
died the death of a brave man. No braver, truer man 
ever lived. 

Having been supplied by Andrews with Confederate 
money to pay our expenses, we separated into squads of 
four or five and directed our course toward Chattanooga, 
distant one hundred and three miles. We Avere soon 
clear of all our picket and vidette posts and in the 
enemy's country. Not until fairly avray from sight of 
the old flag and our regiments and entirely within the 
enemy's line, could we begin to realize the great respon- 
sibility we had incurred. To begin vv'ith, we had cast 
aside our uniforms and put on citizens' clothes, and 
assumed all the penalties that in military usages the word 
SPY implies, which is death the world over. Again, our 
mission was such that concealment was impossible. We 
were sure to arouse the whole Confederacy and invoke 
all the brutal vengeance of its frenzied leaders in case 
we did not make good our escape after doing our work. 
The military spy, in the ordinary line of his duty, is 
not compelled to expose himself to detection. On the 
contrary, he conceals, in every possible way, his identity. 
This we could do until in tlie heai't of the enemy's 
country, the very place where we would be in most 
danger and where the blow would fall most heavily on 
our enemies and arouse against us all their hatred and 
most active energies. 

All these things passed in review in our minds as we 
walked on, but did not cause us to slacken our pace or 



A TRUE SOUTHERN UNION MAN. 19 

abate our will and determination to destroy the Georgia 
State Railroad or die in the attempt. There was, I may 
say right here, one thought about the business that I 
did not just like — that if caught I would die the death 
of a spy — be hung. I had enlisted as a soldier and of 
course knew that 1 took in the bargain some chances of 
being shot, which is not a dishonorable way of closing 
up a soldier's earthly account. I speak of this, that the 
reader may in some measure appreciate the perplexing 
anxiety of our situation at times, and also as an explana- 
tion of some things which subsequently occurred, and 
which may appear to have been done in wanton bravado, 
or with a reckless disregard of life. 

It commenced raining again the night of our depart- 
ure, as it had done the week previous, and continued 
with but very little cessation during our entire trip. 
This of itself increased the obstacles that delayed us. 

During our first day's march we met, for a wonder, a 
true Southern Union man — as loyal a man as ever I 
met. He \vas an old man, who had remained true, 
though surrounded by disloyal neighbors. Though we 
professed to be rebels on our way to enlist in the rebel 
army, he boldly spoke his sentiments and did his best to 
persuade us to return and cast our lot with the Union 
arm}'-. After much urging he piloted us to the river, 
which was so swollen by rain that we could not ford it 
as we expected. The wliole face of the country was a 
vast sheet of water, and we waded for miles throu2rh 
mud and water. The old man procured us a skiff, and 
we then, Avith a hearty shake of his loyal hand, bade 
him farewell. 

By our instructions we were allowed just four days, 



:20 DECEPTIVE STORIES. 

, not only to reach Chattanooga, but to accomplish the 
work. The continued rains and bad roads made this 
accomplishment in the allotted time simply an impossi- 
bility. It delayed us one day longer than the time 
agreed upon, and had much to do with the outcome of our 
-under taking, as will be hereafter seen. That old adage 
vwhich says, " Delays are dangerous," Avas most faith- 
ifully verified in our case. 

During our journey to Chattanooga, Andrews, who 
"^vas mounted, would ride ahead and make all necessary 
inquiries and then, passing out of sight, would allow us 
to go by, w^hen he would mount and overtake us in 
some safe place w^here he would give us instructions, 
^nd then ride on, as though w^e were entire strangers to 
yhimjind he to us. He would frequently pass us, simply 
^bidding us the time in a careless way, and perhaps in 
-an indifferent manner would ask us which Avay w^e were 
.traveling. Sometimes, when squads of rebels Avere 
.about, he would ask us where Ave were going. The 
.re])ly would invariably be — 

-" To Chattanooga, sir." 

•"Are you soldiers?" 

"^^No, sir, Ave are not soldiers, but Ave expect to be 
as soon as Ave can get to one of the Kentucky regi- 
ments. Wq are from Kentucky and are on the Avay to 
join the army, sir. We have become so disgusted with 
>the ..cussed Yankees since they came into our State, that 
Ave can't stand it any longer, and Ave are determined to 
iight ,them as long as there is a man left. They have 
ruined our State, sir. Yes, sir, they steal everything 
they can lay their hands on ; they have burned nearly 
iivery .fence in the StatCj sir. Are you acquainted ia 



AN OLD PwEBEL COLONEL. 21 

Chattanooga, sir? Conld you give us any information 
about Colonel Williams' reg-iment V' 

*' No, men, I'm sorry to say I can't, now ; but I'n^ 
glad to see you come out to fight for your country^ 
The Lincolnites are determined to take all our slaves 
from us, confiscate our homes, and cut our throats in-* 
the bargain. It is the duty of every Southern man ta 
rally to arms and drive them from our country." 

Durins: these conversations the rebel citizens would 
look on and by their actions and words they seemed ta* 
think we were as good Confederates as ever lived. Im 
this manner we were able to travel through their 
country without exciting suspicion. 

On Wednesday night, April 9, we arrived at the little 
village of Manchester. Xear this village some of the 
party stopped for the night at the house of an old rebel 
Avho bore the title of Colonel. It was our plan to avoid 
persons of his stamp, as we did not care to undergo too 
close scrutiny. But night overtook a part of the squad 
there and none who took shelter under the old Colonel's 
roof had cause to feel sony. He was a good enter- 
tainer, had plenty of the comforts of life about him 
and was an incessant talker, especially on the subject 
uppermost in his mind — the war. He was at first a 
little cautious and shy, but on being assured that his 
quests were Confederates of the best stripe, he relaxed 
himself and assured them that he felt honored by their 
presence and that it was a privilege indeed to be able 
to serv^e such brave men — men who were patriotic 
enough to leave their homes in Old Kentucky and go 
voluntarily to the front in the great hour of danger.. 
It did not seem as though he could do enough for the; 



22 A cjentp:el stkan'gek. 

boys; nothing he had was too good. lie proved his 
loyalty, the next morning, to the secession cause, and 
his good will to them by taking his team and wagon 
and hauling them as far as the mountains, to a little 
place called Pelham. While in his company we had 
no reason to fear suspicion. No better guarantee that 
we were all right was needed in that part of Tennessee. 
Before leaving the men he took them to a tavern and 
treated them to whisky, after which he baxle them 
good speed and returned home. AVhether he ever 
learned his mistake or not I do not know. 

For myself, I spent the same night with an old 
farmer — a neighbor of the old ColoneFs — a mild and 
inoffensive-appearing old man. I was very hungry and 
tired and felt great gratification on seating myself at 
his table to see it so bountifully supplied with substan- 
tial eatables so tempting to a hungry man. I ate 
heartily and said but few w^ords. There was a rather 
genteel, smooth-looking man at the table whose pres- 
ence and appearance I did not exactly understand. I 
could not at first make out whether he belonged to the 
place or not, but soon discovered that he w^as a stranger. 
I kept a discreet tongue and learned bye and bye that 
the stranger, too, was on his way to Chattanooga. He 
inquired particularly concerning the roads and very 
minutely in regard to the Yankees. The old man told 
him that lie had never seen a Yankee nor heard of any 
being nearer than the coal banks at the mountains. 
The stranger seemed quite uneasy lest he should fall 
into Yankee hands and was evidently no lover of the 
horrible "Yanks." Next morning, in good season, we 
were ready to continue our journey and the stranger 



A CONFEDEKATE SPY. 23 

became one of our traveling companions. He did not 
long continue with us, however, as we took a road that 
was supposed to come in close proximity to the Federal 
lines. He now took me one side and proposed to give 
me forty dollars to pilot him over the mountains. He 
told me he was a spy, acting in the employ of the 
Confederate Government. 

My mind was now thrown into a cloud of doubt and 
perplexity as to what was the proper thing to do. At 
times I had a mind to accept his offer and go as a guide 
with him until I had a chance to lose him or get sep- 
arated from him. He might, in case he had seen reason 
to suspect us, get to Chattanooga in advance of us and 
cause our arrest and imprisonment. I was at no little 
loss what to do. At one time I had concluded to go 
with him until we could reach some secluded place and 
there treat him to the fate of a spy and enemy of my 
country — a fate he deserved, as I knew he was carrying 
important news to the Confederates. But on the other 
hand, if I did this, it might detain me so long that I 
would fail to be on time to discharge my part in the 
service for which I had been detailed. We finally let 
him go his road and we went ours. When we arrived 
in Chattanooga he was the first. man we met and he, 
supposing us to be friends, treated us with great cordi- 
ality and invited us to go with him and '' have some- 
thing," but it was nearly train time and we had reasons 
for politely declining, not caring to make his further 
acquaintance. This was the last we saw of the nice- 
appearing stranger and Confederate spy. 

We reached the north bank of the Tennessee Eiver, 
opposite Chattanooga, on Friday, the 11th, one day 



24: OFF FOR MAKIfcTTA. 

behind the time agreed upon with General Mitchell, and 
were compelled to wait for some time for the wind to 
subside so that the ferry-boat — a little, crazy, frail affair 
—could carry us safely across. At length, however, we 
had the satisfaction of landing safe and sound in Chat- 
tanooga, where we found we had been preceded by 
most of the party. AVe went to the depot and pur- 
chased tickets to Marietta, Georgia. Some of the party 
purchased several tickets, so that there would not be so- 
many of us at the office at once. Everything thus far 
appeared to work finely. AYe all secured our tickets^ 
went aboard the train, and no one seemed to pay any 
attention to us. This was a great relief to us. We took 
seats in the cars and were soon moving off into Dixie 
at a good rate of speed. I felt that this was a much, 
easier and more expeditious way of getting on than the 
tedious, tiresome march of the previous four days. 

After getting seated, and there being no further cause 
of concern for the time being, I began to carefully 
study over the situation with all the thought I could, and 
to calculate our chances of success or failure, and the 
result of my deliberations was by no means encourag- 
ing. We were one day behind the time appointed. I 
knew, too, or felt sure, that General Mitchell would not 
fail to march upon and take Iluntsville, according to 
the arrangements made with us when we started. I 
also felt certain that if he did so there would be little 
room to hope for our success. It would cause the road 
to be crowded with trains flying from danger, and it 
would be difficult for us to pass them all in safety. But 
it was too late now to change the programme. We 
must make the effort, come what might. I said noth- 



ANDKEWS SANGUINE. 25 

ing, however, to any one except Andrews ; but on lis- 
tening to my opinion on the situation he encouraged me 
by saying there was yet a good chance to succeed. 
Indeed, he expressed himself in so sanguine a manner 
that I made no further argument ; but I still thought 
my course of reasoning correct, whether the result 
would accord v/ith it or not. 



CIIAPTEPw II. 

Safe Arrival at Marietta — On Board the Morning Express — 
Porter and Hawkins get Left— Ciipturing the Train at Big 
Shanty — A Bewildered Multitude of Rebels — AVe Pull Out 
Lively — Cutting Telegraph Wires — Tearing up Railroad Track 
— The Powder Train Story — Almost a Row with the Train 
Men — A Zealous Station Agent, who was Willing to Send 
his Last Shirt to General Beauregard — Hindered, by Down 
Trains Fleeing from General Mitchell — Pui*sued by a Loco- 
motive — Tearing up More Track — A Railroad Race for Life 
or Death — Vain Efforts to Impede Pursuit — Trying to Burn 
a Bridge — Throwing off Ties on the Track — A Reckless and 
Devil-may-care Race, the Like of Which was Never Before 
Seen. 

"Now, by St. Paul, tlie work goes bia^ely on." 

MJe left Chattanooga a little while before sunset, and 
^)l arrived at Marietta soon after midnight, a distance 
X^ of one hundred and thirty miles. We at once 
repaired to the nearest hotel and registered, of course 
giving fictitious names. Before retiring, arrangements 
were made to have the hotel men awake us in time for 
the north-bound train in the morning, which they prom- 
ised to do without fail. 

No man kno\vs what a day may bring forth ; and 
this very uncertainty of what the light of that day's 
sun would bring forth in our particular cases was the 
reason some of us, myself at least of the number, did 
not sleep very much. Our doom might be fixed before 

(26) 



POKTER AND HAWKINS LEFT. 27 

the setting of another sun. We mi^ht be hanging to 
the limbs of some of the trees along the railroad, with 
an enraged populace jeering and shouting epitliets and 
vengeance because we had no more lives to give up ; 
or, we miirht leave a trail of fire and destruction behind 
US and come triumphantly rolling into Chattanooga and 
Huntsville, witliin the Federal lines, to receive the wel- 
come plaudits of comrades left behind, and the thanks 
of our General and the praises of a grateful people. 
Such thoughts as these passed in swift review, and were 
not well calculated to make one sleep soundly. But 
even this broken rest was not to continue long. The 
two or three hours soon slipped by and we were called 
and notified to " hurrv ud or we would be left." Two 
of our men who lodged at another house. Porter and 
Hawkins, by some mistake, were not called, and were 
left, so that only twenty of us took the train. This 
was a serious loss, for Hawkins was the most experi- 
enced engineer of the party, and he was the one 
selected to take charge of the engine ; but it is not 
likely that the result of the expedition would have been 
different, even with his practice and experii^nce. 

The reader will, by glancing at a map of Georgia, 
notice that just to the north of Marietta, on the rail- 
road, are the towns of Kenesaw and iVig Shanty. 
Sherman's soldiers will all remember these two places. 
It was the latter place, also called Camp McDonald, a 
place where rebel recruits in great numbers were 
brouo:ht for oro^anization and drill, that had been selected 
to strike*the first blow, by capturing the train, or such 
portion of it as was wanted. Big Shanty is only eight 
or ten miles from Marietta, and there were two good 



28 THE CRITICAL MOMENT. 

reasons why we selected that particular station. In the 
first place, tlicre was no telegraph office there — an 
important point in our favor — and in the next place it 
was a lunch station, where passengers were allowed 
twenty minutes for refreshments. This was in our 
favor, for it might save us the necessity of killing the 
engineer and fireman, Avho would, in all probability, 
leave the engine to go to the refreshment room. Aside 
from considerations of humanity, it was our wish to 
avoid any collision or delay, for there were camped 
within sight of the station no less than ten thousand 
Confederates. 

The train we had taken passage on was the express, 
heavily loaded with passengers and drawn by a fine 
iookino^ locomotive. There was many an anxious ffaze 
from one to another of our party after we had taken 
our seats in the cars that morning, as if to read the 
thoughts of each, as men will sometimes do w^hen 
drawn up in line on the eve of a great battle when the 
skirmishers are slowly retreating before the advancing 
columns of the enemy. For my own part I could not 
discover on a face in our party any sign of trepidation 
or timidity. Each seemed cool, decided and resolute. 
Few words were spolren and each seemed impatient 
for the decisive moment to arrive. "When the shrill 
v,diistle announced that we had arrived at the station 
and the conductor sang out " Big Shanty ! twenty min- 
utes for breakfast ! " and himself started for the restau- 
rant, followed by the engineer and fireman, we felt a 
happy relief. The passengers were swarming into the 
eating-house for breakfast }>ell-mell. Now was our 
time to strike ! 



THE TRAIN CAPTURED. 



29 



Our party had, by this time, all drifted together 
along side the train on the platform, when Andrews, 
who had been ahead to see if the switches were 
all right and the track clear, came up and quietly 
said, *' All right, boys." Every man sprang to his place. 
Andrews, who had been improving all his time, had 
uncoupled the train, leaving three box-cars hitched to 
the tender. Andrews, Brown, Knight and myself 
sprang on the engine. Knight grasped the lever of the 
engine and gave it a surge and the ponderous wheels 
were instantly in motion. We were off. The rest of 
the men had leaped into one of the box-cars. The rebel 
guards who were on duty about the platform, did not 
at first seem to comprehend what was up, and, when it 
was, alas, too late, looked after us in blank amazement. 
We shot out lively for a short distance, perhaps nearly 
half a mile, as Knight had thrown the valve wide open, 
when w^e discovered the engine had been left with but 
little steam or lire either. We were compelled to come 
to a dead stop, and the way we put in Avood and poured 
on oil wasn't slow by any means. We could see 
the surprised, dumbfounded crowd — citizens, soldiers, 
officers and railroad men — gazing after us and running 
hither and thither in helpless confusion. Several squads 
of soldiers, with their guns, started for us on the dead 
run, yelling like w^ild Comanches. Our fire was burn- 
ing briskly by this time and we had no fear of them. 
We waited, however, until they came within thirty or 
forty rods and then pulled the lever and rolled out 
slowly for some distance, until we could gain a good 
head of steam. When they saw w^e had steam up, they 
cdime to XI halt and opened a lively musketry fire on us. 



30 DESTROYING TRACK AND WIRES. 

They did us no barm, and every revolution of the big 
wheels carried us farther beyond their reach. When 
we were safely out of tlieir way, ^ve halted again and 
John Scott, with the agility, intrepidity and daring for 
which he was noted, climbed a pole and cut the tele- 
graph wire, so that by no possibility would they be able 
to send a dispatch ahead of us. We then pulled out at 
a rapid rate for a time, until, coming to a curve in the 
road, we stopped again. 

Every man fully realized the danger of the terrible 
work of destruction that we had undertaken, and was 
full}'' nerved for the struggle. Here, too, we tore up 
the track behind us, and Scott again cut down the 
wires, as he continued to do throughout that terrible 
race, and this time made them fast to the rear car of 
the train. The way we " yanked " down telegraph 
poles and tore the wire loose when we started up, was 
frio-htful to behold. At the next station we met and 
passed a train. They evidently regarded us with 
surprise or suspicion. The train men knew the loco- 
motive we were on, but the hands were all strangers to 
them. Besides, w^e were a wild train ahead of the 
express and unannounced. But we did not parley or 
answer questions nor stop until we reached the tank, 
where we took on water and wood. Then we pulled 
out at rapid speed for a v\^hile when we again stopped 
and tore up the track and cut the wires to cut off pur- 
suit. We continued in this manner, destroying track 
and wire frequently, until we reached a little station 
called Marengo, where we had to stop for a south- 
bound train to pass. 

AVhen we made the first stop, after capturing the 



THE POWDER STORY. 31 

train and getting clear of Big Shanty, Andrews was 
overjoyed at our success, and wiien he jumped off the 
locomotive he clasped each of us by the hand, congrat- 
ulating us that the worst part of the job was over, 
as we had but one more tram to pass when the " coast 
w^ould all be clear. " This probably would all have 
been true had we been one dav sooner. 

While we were waiting at Marengo, Andre v/s went 
into the office and procured the switch ke3's and a 
schedule, telling the office-man that he was running an 
"extra" through with powder and ammunition to 
Beauregard, who was hard pressed by Grant and was 
out of ammunition, and the greatest possible haste was- 
necessary. This story, trumped up on the spur of the 
moment, had much semblance of truth, although we 
did not know it. 

!N"ot a week had elapsed since the battle of Shiloh^ 
and Generals Grant and Ilalleck were at that very time 
pushing their columns on toward Beauregard at Corinth, 
and to give further plausibility to our story, there was 
in the express car a prodigious iron-bound saCe, contain- 
ing probably a wagon load of Confederate scrip, with 
which to pay off the Confederates at Corinth. This 
was satisfactory to the man, who said he would 
willingly take off his shirt and send it to Beauregard if 
it would do any good. When Andrews returned to the 
train we were in a great turmoil. This was the station 
where the express train changed hands, and no sooner 
had we come to a halt than the relief came on to take 
possession. Finding a new and strange set of men and 
no passenger cars, they did not know w^hat to make of 
it. They knew the locomotive and asked us what we 



32 PASSING FLYING TRAINS. 

Tivere doino: on that eno^ine? A7e told them the same 
story that Andrews told ; but still they seemed to think 
something was not right. AVhen Andrews, however, 
who was clothed in somewhat of a military dress, 
made his appearance and told them the same story in 
his serious and impressive way ; that he had charge of 
ihe train and that it Avas very important that there 
should be no delay, and also assured them that the 
express train would be along soon, they seemed a little 
more reconciled. In the meantime the down train had 
passed, and without further parley we pulled out and 
left them to settle the matter the best they could. 

We did not run far until we again stopped and tore 
up the track and cut the wires. This time w^e took the 
displaced rails with us for the purpose of making them 
all the trouble and delay we could, knowing that in all 
probability pursuit would soon follow. Thus we pro- 
ceeded, tearing up the track, cutting the wires and 
waiting for trains to pass, frequently, however, doubling 
on schedu«Ie time between stations. AVhat gave us most 
^.oncern was the fact that every ^^train that passed us 
carried a red flag, indicating thaf other trains were fol- 
lowing. We knew the explanation of this. General 
Mitchell, prompt to fulfill his agreement with us, had 
pushed the Federal troops forward to the railroad 
,at Iluntsville, and the whole rebel population were 
badly scared, while all the public property was being 
run into Georgia for safety. 

At length we reached a station where we were almost 
positive that we should pass the last train. Andrews 
went into the station where the keys were hanging and 
took them to adjust the switch without asking any one. 



TUE puEsurr began. 33 

This liberty on his part was likely to raise some trouble 
with the station men, but the plausible powder story 
quieted them. After waiting a short time the down 
train passed, but it carried the inevitable red flag. This 
was not encouraging to us. Our precious time was 
being fatally consumed with these delays. We felt and 
Ivuew it. 

Finally, while we were engaged in tearing up the 
track, we were startled by the shrill whistle of a pur- 
suing locomotive, away in our rear, but unmistakably 
coming toward us. "VYe were followed and there was 
not a doubt of it. The pursuing train, however, was 
delayed by meeting the train which had just passed us 
and this delay gave us quite a start again, which we 
improved to the best possible advantage. It must be 
remembered that from the nature of our position we 
had a poor chance of providing ourselves with bars, 
saws, grappling-hooks, axes, sledges, powder, torpedoes, 
and other necessary implements for making quick work 
in the destruction of track and bridges. We had put 
our main reliance on destroying by fire. 

Eight here I may as well explain briefly, although a 
little out of the regular order, how the pursuit, which 
began at Big Shanty, was conducted. The engineer, 
conductor and track-master followed on a hand-car 
until they met the first train we had passed. They 
boarded this train, reversed the engine and pushed on 
with all possible haste. When they came to where we 
had displaced the track, they took up rails behind them 
and laid them down again in front and thus pressed on 
with no great delay, for on reaching the first station 
they dropped off most of the cars, took on a quantity 
3 



34 DESPERATE RACE FOR LIFE. 

of rails and a gang of track-hands and tlicn pushed 
rapidly on. 

When we found that we were pursued we knew that 
the destruction of a bridge was the only thing that 
would save us and to do this we must outrun them far 
^ enough to burn the bridge before they came up. 

Now followed a trial of speed between locomotives 
— a race which for desperate, dare-devil recklessness, 
velocity and the high stakes at issue was never equaled 
on land or water on the American continent. This was 
our last shuffle of the cards and the game was a des- 
perate one. It was swift vengeance on the one side 
and life or death on the other. 

Our locomotive was under a full head of steam. 
The engineer stood v/ith his hand on the lever with 
the valve wide open. It was frightful to see how the 
powerful iron monster under us would leap forward 
under the revolutions of her great wheels. Brown 
would scream to me ever and anon, *' Give her more 
wood, Alf!" which command was promptly obeyed. 
She rocked and reeled like a drunken man, while we 
tumbled from side to side like grains of pop-corn in a 
hot frying-pan. It was bewildering to look at the 
ground, or objects on the road-side. A constant stream 
of fire ran from the rims of the great wheels and to this 
day I shudder when I reflect on that, my first and last 
locomotive ride. "We sped past stations, houses and 
fields and out of sight almost like a meteor, while the 
bystanders who barely caught a glimpse of us as we 
passed, looked on as if in both fear and amazement. It 
has always been a wonder with me that our locomotive 
and cars kept the track at all, or how they could pos- 



THE TERRIBLE SrEED CONTINUED. 35 

sibly stay on the track. At times the iron horse seemed 
literally to fly over the course, the driving-wheels of 
one side bein^: lifted from the rails much of the dis- 
tance over which we now sped w^ith a velocity fearful 
to contemplate. "We took little thought of the matter 
then. Death in a railroad smash-up would have been 
preferable to us to capture. AVe had but this choice 
left us. 

:}. While vre on the locomotive were making this pell- 
mell, "devil-may-care" race, the men in the box-cars 
were not idle. They had, previous to leaving the last 
stopping place, taken on a lot of ties which they placed 
in the rear car. They then broke a large hole m the 
car and as we sped on would now and then drop out a 
tie to impede the progress of the pursuers. So great 
Avas our speed that sometimes "when one of these ties 
struck the track it bounded twenty or thirty feet high 
and came whirlino: end over end after the train as 
though shot after us from a cannon. 

Twice or thrice did we stop to burn bridges, but in 
spite of the terrible speed we had made, only a few 
minutes would elapse before we could hear our pursuers 
thundering after us like a roaring storm-cloud before a 
furious wind. They had in the meantime picked up 
another passenger locomotive and train just in from the 
Rome branch of the Georgia road, which, with troops, 
was following close after the first train. 

We were now nearing Dalton, and, discovering the 
track all clear, we went through at a high rate of speed. 
Here is the only instance, I think, where we failed to do 
all that could have been done. We ran about two 
minutes too long before w^e stopped to cut the wire. I 



36 THE SCARE AT CHATTANOOGA. 

tried, and even insisted with Andrews, that we should 
stop the train sooner, but for some unknown reason he 
did not. It was all owing to this that our pursuers got 
a dispatch through to Chattanooga ahead of us. They 
had taken up a telegraph operator who was put off near 
Dalton, and who succeeded in getting a dispatch through 
about two minutes before Ave cut down the wire. I 
have since learned that the dispatch caused the wildest 
stampede in Chattanooga. Troops were called to arms, 
the railroad track torn up and cannon planted covering 
the track, while a double guard was kept on duty all 
night. As matters turned out, however, it made but 
little difference, except to scare the Chattanooga people 
nearly out of their senses. 

We had now arrived at a part of the road which we 
particularly wished to destroy. We therefore deter- 
mined to make another effort to burn a bridge, knowing 
that if we could destroy one we would be safe from our 
pursuers, while we could destroy the rest. Otherwise 
we would certainly fail. We kindled a fire in the rear 
car and put the locomotive again at full speed, so as to 
have all the time possible for the bridge to get well to 
burning before the pursuing train came up. We 
dropped off this burning car on the bridge when we 
reached it, and stopped to assist the fire in the work of 
destruction all we could. But we were not permitted 
to accomplish the task. We no more than fairly got to 
work before we saw the black smoke of the pursuing 
locomotive rolling above the trees as she came thunder- 
ino- down the road at almost lightning speed. They 
seemed to know our design on the bridge and were 
straining evpry nerve to foil the attempt. They had 



LAST DESPERATE EFFORTS. 37 

one of the best locDmotives on tli3 road, and had a fresh 
supply of wood and water, while we had but little of 
either, our supply having nearly run out. 

Our situation was becoming more unpleasant every 
moment. Tlie road was very rougli here ; but, rough 
or smooth, our last thread of hope hung on the swift- 
ness of our tired locomotive. AVe crammed the furnace 
with every combustible we could lay hands on. Again 
she plunged ahead at frightful speed, reeling and rock- 
ing on the rough track like a drunken man. We made 
a sudden halt at a tank and wood-pile, and hastily pro- 
ceeded to " wood and water." "We had, however, secured 
only a partial supply when the chasing train came in 
sight, loaded with armed soldiers. 

Our pursuers were worked up to an infuriated pitch 
of excitement and rent the very air with their devilish 
screeches and 3^ells as they came in sight of us, like dogs 
when the quarry is sprung. They opened on us at long 
range with musketry. The bullets rattled around us 
like hail, but fortunately none of our party was hit. 
This is the only instance I have ever heard of where 
troops were put into action on a moving railroad train 
and I am clear in my mind that this kind of warfare 
will never become popular if everybody regards it from 
my standpoint. #i 

Our iron horse was now put to its severest test, but 
our most strenuous efforts to place distance between 
ourselves and our pursuers were in vain. Their loco- 
motive was equal to ours and they were running it 
equally as reckless. "We had nothing left on board to 
throw off and thus obstruct the track as we had previ- 
ously done. It was becoming more evident every mo- 



38 THE RACE ALMOST RUN. 

ment that our only and last hope lay in an abandon- 
ment of the locomotive and fleeing to the Avoods. 
Already our speed began to slacken — we had neither 
wood, water nor oil. The locomotive shook and reeled 
as she sped on. I could liken her condition to nothing 
else than the last struggles of a faithful horse, whose 
heartless master has driven and lashed him until he is 
gasping for breath and literally dying in the harness. 
The powerful machine had carried us safely for more 
than a hundred miles, some of the time at a rate of 
speed appalling to contemplate, but she was becoming 
helpless and useless in our service. She was shaken 
loose in every joint, at least she seemed so ; the brass 
on her journals and boxes was melted by the heat ; her 
great steel tires almost red hot, while she smoked and 
sizzled at every joint. Our race was almost run. 



CHAPTER III. 

Run Down at Last — We Jump the Train and Fly to the 
Woods under Musketry Fire — How the Chase was Made — 
The Obstacles We Had to Encounter — Sensational Rebel 
Account of the Whole Affair — The Confederacy Badly 
"Shook Up." 

1% FEW minutes before we came to our final halt, 
^' Andrews, Brown, Knight and myself, who were 
on the engine and tender, having given up all 
hope of success, hastily discussed as to the best thing 
to be done, and it was concluded that the best course 
was to separate and scatter in all directions. In this 
way some of the party might possibly get away, while 
if we went in a body and continued together, with the 
great number of rebel troops in our front and in the 
rear, and, in fact, on all sides of us, the capture of the 
entire party would be absolutely certain. In accord- 
ance with this conclusion, Andrews now told us all that 
it was " every man for himself ;" that we must scatter 
and do the best we could to escape to the Federal lines. 
We put down the brakes and as we sprang oif and she 
stopped, her motion was reversed, with the hope 
that she would run back and either cause collision or 
delay to the on-rushing train, with its frenzied, blood- 
thirsty passengers behind us, thereby giving us a little 

(S9) 



4rO JUMPING THE TRAIN. 

lever — she Avould not budge a wheel nor move an inch, 
but stood useless and sullen on the track — she was dead* 

AVe did not stop even to take a farewell look but all 
struck for the woods, scattering in all directions except 
behind us. They came thundering up to within twa 
hundred yards of where we stopped, and we could hear 
them shout, " Halt ! " " Halt ! " and while some were 
leaping oil the cars, others opened fir'e on us with their 
muskets. Between the shrill whistle and steam of their 
locomotive, their infernal screeches and yells and the 
musketry fire, it seemed as if all Bedlam had been 
turned loose. This tumult only lent wings to our flight. 
The musket balls began to fly uncomfortably thick ; but 
we only ran the faster. As I jumped and ran from the 
train I heard my name called, and looking back, saw 
my comrade, Mark Wood, hastening after me. Halting 
for him we continued our flight together, and remained 
close companions in many an after-adventure in Dixie. 

The reader may here be inclined to wonder, that 
with the start we had, the terrific speed with which 
w^e almost flew over the track, the rails we had torn up 
and the obstacles w^e had thrown out to impede our 
pursuers, why it was that they gained upon us so rap- 
idly in such an incredibly short tim3. Bat it must be 
remembered that much valuable time was lost in pass- 
ing down trains, at one place having waited twenty- 
five minutes for a train. Train after train passed us, 
and on one occasion as many as eight or ten locomo- 
tives in a string— cars both empty and loaded, all hur- 
rying down the road in the effort to get all the available 
rolling stock and property to a place of safety from the 
clutches of General Mitchell's triumphant and advanc- 



V'l 



w ! f ImIikihi HimiimKm,.iimjiiuu!.', 




THE OBSTACLES WE MET. 41 

ing army. Then, too, tlie time lost in getting wood 
and water, in cutting telegraph wires, altogether con- 
sumed many precious mom3nt3. The very excitement 
of the chase also brought those living naar the track to 
the road in crowds, and they undoubtedly assisted in 
clearing obstructions as spaedily as possible. The rebel 
account of the pursuit, published in the Sjiithem Con- 
federacy, at Atlanta, April 15, 1862, shows clearly how 
our pursuers gave us such a successful chase, and also 
shows the immense importance the Confederates 
attached to this reckless expedition, if it had been suc- 
cessful. I take the liberty here of reproducing the 
published account as it appeared in that paper, three 
days after the occurrence. It is as follows : 

THE GEEAT EAlLPwOAD CHASE. 

THE MOST EXTR-VOKDINARY AND ASTOUNDING ADVENTURE 
OB" THE WAR — THE MOST DAltING UNDERTAKING THAT 

YANKEES EVER PLANNED OR ATTEMPTED TO EXECUTE 

STEALING AN ENGINE — TEARING UP THE TRACK — PURSUED 

ON FOOT, ON HAND-CARS, AND ENGINES OVERTAKEN 

A SCATTERING — THE CAPTURE THE WONDERFUL ENERGY 

OF MESSRS. FULLER, MURPHY AND CAIN SOME REFLEC- 
TIONS, ETC., ETC. 

Since our last issue we have obtained full particu- 
lars of the most thrilling railroad adventure that ev^er 
occurred on the American Continent, as Avell as the 
mightiest and most important in its results, if success- 
ful, that has been conceived by the Lincoln Govern ment 
since the commencement of this w^ar. Nothing on so 
grand a scale has been attempted, and nothing within 
the range of possibility could be conceived that would 
fall with such a tremendous crushing force upon us, as 



42 ' THE KEBEL ACCOUNT OF 

the accomplishment of the plans which were concocted 
and dependent on the execution of the one whose history 
we now proceed to narrate. 

Its reality — lohat was actually done — excels all the 
extravagant coiiceptloiis of the Arrow-Smith hoax, 
which fiction created such a profound sensation in 
Europe. 

Tt) mal^e the matter more complete and intelligible, 
we will take our readers over the same history of the 
case which we related in our last, the main features of 
which are correct, but are lacking in details, which 
have since come to hand. 

We will begin at the breakfast table of the Big 
Shanty Hotel, at Camp McDonald, on the W. & A. R. 
II., where several regiments of soldiers are now 
encamped. The morning mail and passenger train had 
left here at 4 a. m. on last Saturday morning as usual, 
and had stopped there for breakfast. The conductor, 
William A. i^ uUer, the engineer, I. Cain — both of this 
€ity — and the passengers were at the table, when some 
eight men, having uncoupled the engine and three 
empty box-cars next to it from the passenger and bag- 
gage cars, mounted the engine, pulled open the valve, 
put on all steam, and left conductor, engineer, passen- 
gers, spectators, and the soldiers in the camp hard by, 
all lost in amazement and dumbfounded at the strange, 
startling and daring act. 

This .unheai'd-of act was doubtless undertaken at 
that place and time, upon the presumption that pursuit 
coukl not be made by an engine short of Kingston, 
some thirty miles above, or from this place; and that 
by cutting down the telegraph wires as they proceeded, 
the adventurers could calculate on at least three or four 
hours the start of any pursuit it was reasonable to 
expect. This was a legitimate conclusion, and but for 
the will, energy and quick good judgment of Mr. 
Fuller and Mr. Cain, and Mr. Anthony Murphy, the- 
intelligent and practical foreman of the wood depart- 



THE GREAT KAILWAY CHASE. 43 

ment of the State road shop, who accidentally went on 
the train from this place that morning, their calcula- 
tions would have worked out as originally contempla- 
ted, and the results would have been obtained long ere 
this reaches the eyes of our readers — the most terrible 
to us of any that we can conceive as possible, and 
unequaled by an3^thing attempted or conceived since 
this war commenced. 

Now for the chase ! 

These three determined men, without a moment's 
delay, put out after the flying train — on foot^ amidst 
shouts of laughter by the crowd, who, though lost in 
amazement at the unexpected and daring act, could not 
repress their risibility at seeing three men start after a 
train on foot, which they had just witnessed depart at 
lightning speed. They put on all their speed, and ran 
along the track for three milej, when they came across 
some track-raisers, who had a small truck-car, which is 
shoved along by men so employed on railroads, on 
which to carry their tools. This truck and men were 
at once " impressed " They took it by turns of two at 
a time to run behind this truck and push it along all up 
grades and level portions of the road, and let it drive 
at will on all the down grades. A little way further 
up the fugitive adventurers had stopped, cut the tele- 
graph wires and torn up the track. Here the pursuers 
were thrown off pell-mell, truck and men, upon the 
side of the road. Fortunately, " nobody was hurt on 
our side.'' The truck was soon placed on the road 
again ; enough hands were left to repair the track and 
With all the power of determined will and muscle, they 
pushed on to Etowah Station, some twenty miles above. 

Here, most fortunately. Major Cooper's old coal 
engine, the " Yonah " — one of the first engines on the 
State road — was standing out, fired up. This venerable 
locomotive was immediately turned upon her old track 
and like an old racer at the tap of the drum, pricked 
up her ears and made fine time to Kingston. 



44: THAT POWDER STORY. 

The fugitives, not expecting such early pursuit, 
quietly took in wood and water at Cass Station, and 
borrowed a schedule from the tank-tender upon the 
plausible plea that they were running a pressed train, 
loaded with powder for Beauregard. The attentive 
and patriotic tank- tender, Mr. William Eussell, said he 
gave them his schedule, and would have sent the shirt 
off his back to Beauregard, if it had been asked for. 
Here the adventurous fugitives inquired which end of 
the switch they should go in on at Kingston. When 
they arrived at Kingston, they stopped, went to the 
agent there, told the powder story, readily got the 
switch-key, went on the upper turn-out, and waited for 
the down way freight train to pass. To all inquiries 
they replied with the same powder story. When the 
freight train had passed, they immediately proceeded* 
on to the next station — Adairsville — where they Avere 
to meet the Tegular down fr eight train. At some 
point on the way they had taken on some fifty cross- 
ties, and before reaching Adairsville, they stopped on a 
curve, tore up the rails, and put several cross-ties on the 
track — no doubt intending to wreck this down freight 
train, which would be along in a few minutes. They 
had out upon the engine a red handkerchief, as a kind 
of flag or signal, which, in railroading, means another 
train is beliind — thereby indicating to all that the 
regular passenger train would be along presently. 
They stopped a moment at Adairsville, and said Fuller, 
with the regular passenger train, was behind, and would 
wait at Kingston for the freight train, and told the 
conductor thereon to push ahead and meet him at that 
point. They passed on to Calhoun, where they met* 
the down passenger train, due here at 4:20 p. m., and 
without making any stop, they proceeded — on, on 
and on. 

But we must return to Fuller and his party whom 
we have unconsciously left on the old " Yonah " making 
oheir way to Kingston. 



THE TwEBEL PURSUIT. 4:5 

Arriving there and learning the adventurers were 
but twenty minutes ahead, they left the '' Yonah " to 
blow off, while they mounted the engine of the Eome 
Branch Eoad, which was ready fii'ed up and waiting 
for the arrival of the passenger train nearly due, when 
it would have proceeded to Rome. A large party of 
gentlemen volunteered for the chase, some at Ac worth, 
Allatoona, Kingston and other points, taking such arms 
as they could lay their hands on at the moment ; and 
with this fresh engine they set out with all speed but 
with great " care and caution," as they had scarcely 
time to make Adairsville before the down freight train 
would leave that point. Sure enough, they discovered 
this side of Adairsville three rails torn up and other 
impediments in the way. They " took up " in time to 
prevent an accident, but could proceed with the train 
no further. This was most vexatious, and it may have 
been in some degree disheartening, but it did not cause 
the slightest relaxation of efforts, and as the result 
proved was but little in the way of the dead game, pluck 
and resolutions of Fuller and Murphy, who left the 
engine and again j9i^^ out on foot alone ! After running 
two miles they met the down freight train, one mile 
out from Adairsville. They immediately reversed the 
train and run backwards to Adairsville — put the cars 
on the siding and pressed forward, making fine time to 
Calhoun, where they met the regular down passenger 
train. Here they halted a moment, took on board a 
telegraph operator, and a number of men who again 
volunteered, taking their guns along — and continued 
the chase. Mr. Fuller also took on here a company of 
track hands to repair the track as they went along. A 
short distance above Calhoun they flushed^ their game 
on a curve, where they doubtless supposed themseh^es 
out of danger, and were quietly oiling the engine, 
taking up the track, etc. Discovering that they were 
pursued, they mounted and sped away, throwing out 
upon the track as they went along the heavy cross-ties 



4:6 GAINING ON THE HAIDERS. 

they had prepared themseh^es with. This was done by 
breaking out the end of the hindmost box-car, and 
pitching them out. Thus, *'nip and tuck," they passed 
with fearful speed Resaca, Tiiton, and on through 
Dalton. 

The rails which the}^ had taken up last they took off 
with them — besides throwino^ out cross-ties upon the 
track occasionally — hoping thereby the more surely to 
impede the pursuit ; but all this was like tow to tlie 
touch of fire, to the now thoroughly aroused, excited 
and eager pursuers. These men, though so much ex- 
cited and influenced by so much determination, still 
retained their well-known caution, were looking out for 
this danger and discovered it, and though it was seem- 
ingly an insuperable obstacle to their making any head- 
way in pursuit, was quickly overcome by the genius of 
Fuller and Murphy. Coming to where the rails were 
torn up, they stopped, tore up rails behind them, and 
laid them down before, till they passed over that obsta- 
cle. When the cross-ties were reached, they hauled to 
and threw them off, and thus proceeded, and under 
these difficulties gained on the fugitiv^es. At Dalton 
they halted a moment. Fuller put off the telegraph 
operator, with instructions to telegraph to Chattanooga 
to have them stopped, in case he should fail to over- 
haul them. 

Fuller pressed on in hot chase — sometimes in sight — 
as much to prevent their cutting the wires before the 
messafi^e could be sent as to catch them. The darino: 
adventurers stopped just opposite and very near to 
where Colonel Glenn's regiment is encamped, and cut 
the wires, but the operator at Dalton had jput the mes- 
sage through about two mimites before. They also again 
tore up the track, cut down a telegraph-pole, and phiced 
the two ends under the cross-ties, and the middle over 
the rail on the track. The pursuers stopped again and 
got over this impediment in the same manner they did 
before — taking up rails behind and laying them down 



TAKE TO THE WOODS. 4T 

before. Once over this, they shot on, and passed 
through the great tunnel, at Tunnel Kill, being then 
onlv live minutes behind. The fugitives thus tindino: 

<j CD r^ 

themselves closely pursued, uncoupled two of the box- 
cars from the engine, to impede the progress of the 
pursuers. Fuller hastily coupled them to the front of 
his engine, and pushed them ahead of him to the first 
turn out or siding, where they were left — thus prevent- 
ing the collision the adventurers intended. 

Thus the engine-thieves passed Einggold, where they 
beo^an to fa2^. Thev were out of wood, water and oil. 
Their raj)id running and inattention to the engine, had 
melted all the brass from the journals. They had no 
time to repair or retit, for an iron horse of more bot- 
tom was close behind. Fuller and Murphy and their 
men soon came within four hundred yards of them, 
Avhen the fugiti\*es jumped from the engine and left it 
— three on the north side and five on the south side- 
all fleeing precipitately and scattering through the 
thicket. Fuller and his party also took to the woods 
after them. 

Some gentlemen, also well armed, took the engine 
and some cars of the down passenger train at Calhoun, 
and followed up Fuller and Murphy and their party in 
the chase, but a short distance behind, and reached the 
place of the staanpede but a very few moments after 
the first pursuers did. A large number of men w^erc 
soon mounted, armed, and scouring the country in 
search of them. Fortunately there was a militia mus- 
ter at Ringgold. A great many countrymen were in 
town. Hearing of the chase, they put out on foot and 
on horseback, in qxqyj direction, in search of the daring, 
but now thoroughly frightened and fugitive men. 

We learn that Fuller, soon after leaving his engine, 
in passing a cabin in the country, found a mule h-iving 
on a bridle but no saddle, and tied to a fence. '■'' Jlerch 
your nitdey'^ he shouted, as he leaped upon liis back and 
put out as fast as a good switch, w^ell applied, could 



48 A REPORT SLIGHTLY " CROOKED." 

impart vigor to the muscles and accelerate the speed of 
the patient donkey. The cry of " Here's your mule!" 
and '' Where's my mule ? " have become national, and 
are generally heard when, on the one hand, no mule is 
about, and on the other, when no one is hunting a 
mule. It seems not to be understood by any one, 
though it is a peculiar Confederate phrase, and is as 
popular as " Dixie " from the Potomac to tlie Rio 
Grande. It remained for Fuller, in the midst of this 
exciting chase, to solve the mysterious meaning of this 
national bye-word or phrase, and give it a practical 
application. 

All of the eight men were captured, and are now 
safely lodged in jail. The particulars of their capture 
we have not received. This we hope to obtain in time 
for a postscript to this, or for our second edition. They 
confessed that tiiey belonged to Lincoln's army, and 
had been sent down from Shelbyville to burn the 
briclges between here and Chattanooga ; and that the 
whole party consisted of nineteen men, eleven of whom 
were dropped at several points on the road as they came 
down, to assist in the burning of the bridges as they 
went back. 

Yv^heu the morning freight train which left this city 
reached Big Shanty, Lieutenant Colonels R. F. Maddox 
and C. P. Phillips took the engine and a few cars, 
with fifty picked men, well armed, and followed on as 
rapidly as possible. They passed over all difficulties, 
and got as far as Calhoun, where they learned the fugi- 
tives had taken to the woods, and were pursued by 
plenty of men, with the means to catch them if it 
were possible. 

One gentleman, who went up on the train from Cal- 
houn, who has furnished us Avith many of these partic- 
ulars, and who, by the \vay, is one of the most experi- 
enced railroad men in Georgia, says too much praise 
cannot be bestowed on Fuller and Murphy, who showed 
a cool judgment and forethought in this extraordinary 



VIVID IMAGINATION. 49 

affair, unsurpassed by anything he ever knew m a rail- 
road emergency. This gentleman, we learn from 
another, offered, on his own account, $100 reward on 
each man, for the apprehension of the villains. 

We do not know what Governor Brown will do in this 
case, or what is his custom in such matters, but if such a 
thing is admissable, we insist on Fuller and Murphy be- 
ing promoted to the highest honors on the road — if not 
by actually giving them the highest positions, at least let 
them be promoted by hrevet. Certainly their indomit- 
able energy and quick, correct judgment and decision 
in the many difficult contingencies connected with this 
unheard of emergency, has saved all the railroad bridges 
above Einggold from being burned ; the most daring 
scheme that this revolution has developed has been 
thwarted, and the tremendous results which, if success- 
ful, can scarcely be imagined, much less described, have 
been averted. Had they succeeded in burning the 
bridges, the enemy at Huntsville would have occupied 
Chattanooga before Sunday night. Yesterday they 
would have been in KnoxvilJe, and thus had possession 
of all East Tennessee. Our forces at Knoxville, Green- 
ville and Cumberland Gap would, ere this, have been in 
the hands of the enemy. Lynchburgh, Ya., would have 
been moved upon at once. This would have given 
them possession of the valley of Yirginia, and Stonewall 
Jackson could have been attacked in the rear. They 
would have possession of the railroad leading to Char- 
lottesville and Orange Court House, as well as the 
South Side Railroad, leading ' to Petersburgh and 
Richmond. They might have been able to unite with 
McClellan's forces and attack Jo. Johnston's army, 
front and flank. It is not by any means improbable 
that our army in Yirginia would have been defeated, 
captured or driven out of the State this week. 

Then reinforcements from all the Eastern and South- 
eastern portion of the country would have been cut off 
from Beauregard. The enemy have Huntsville now, 



50 "that foot eace saved us." 

and with all these designs accomplished his army would 
have been effectually flanked. The mind and heart 
shrink appalled at the awful consequences that would 
have followed the success of this one act. When Fuller, 
Murphy and Cain started from Big Shanty on foot to 
capture that fugitive engine^ they were involuntarily 
laughed at by the crowd, serious as the matter was — 
and to most observers it was indeed most ludicrous; 
but that foot race saved tcs, and prevented the consum- 
mation of all these tremendous consequences. 

One fact, we must not omit to mention, is the valuable 
assistance rendered by Peter Bracken, the engineer on 
the down freight train which Fuller and Murphy turned 
back. lie ran his engine fifty and a half miles — two 
of them backing the whole freight train up to Adairs- 
ville — made twelve stops, coupled, to the two cars which 
the fugitives had dropped, and switched them oJQf on 
sidings — all this, i?i one hour and fire minutes. 

We doLibt if the victory of Manassas or Corinth were 
worth as much to us as the frustration of this grand 
coup cP etat. It is not by any means certain that the 
annihilation of Beauregard's whole army at Corinth 
would be so fatal a blow to us as would have been the 
burning of the bridges at that time and by these men. 

When we learned by a private telegraph dispatch a 
few da3^s ago, that the Yankees had taken Huntsville, 
we attached no great importance to it. AYe regarded 
it merely as a dashing foray of a small party to destroy 
property, tear up the road, etc., a la Morgan. When 
an additional telegram announced the Federal force 
there to be from seventeen thousand to twenty thousand, 
we were inclined to doubt — though coming from a per- 
fectly honorable and upright gentleman, who would 
not be apt to seize upon a wild report to send here to 
his friends. The coming to that point with a large 
force, where they would be flanked on either side hj 
our army, we regarded as a most stupid and unmilitary 
act. We now understand it all. They were to move 



*'tHE deepest laid eCHEME." 51 

upon Chattanooga and Knoxville as soon as the bridges 
^'ere burnt, and press on into Virginia as far as possiljle, 
and take all our forces in that State in the rear. It was 
all the deepest laid scheme and on the grandest scale 
that ever emanated from the brains of any number of 
Yankees combined. It was one that was also, entirely 
practicable on almost any day for the last year. There 
were but two miscalculations in the whole programme; 
they did not expect men to start on foot to pursue them, 
and they did not expect these pursuers on foot to find 
Major Cooper's old '^ Yonah " standing there all ready 
fired up. Their calculations on every other point were 
dead certainties, and would have succeeded perfectly. 

This would have echpsed anything Captain Morgan 
ever attempted. To think of a parcel of Federal 
soldiers, officers and privates, coming down into the 
heart of the Confederate States — for they were here in 
Atlanta and at Marietta — (some of them got on the 
train at Marietta that morning and others were at Big 
Shanty ;) of playing such a serious game on the State 
Road,'which is under the control of our prompt, ener- 
getic and sagacious Governor, known as such all over 
America; to seize the passenger train on his road, right 
at Camp McDonald, where he has a number of Georgia 
regiments encamped, and run off with it ; to burn the 
bridges on the same road, and go safely through to the 
Federal lines — all this would have been a feather in the 
cap of the man or men who executed it. 

Let this be a warning to the railroad men and every 
body else in the Confederate States. Let an engine 
never be left alone a moment. Let additional guards 
be placed at our bridges. This is a matter we specially 
urged in the Confederacy long ago. We hope it will 
now be heeded. Further; let a sufficient guard be 
placed to watch the government stores in this city ; and 
let increased vigilance and watchfulness be put forth by 
the watchmen. We know one solitary man who is 
guarding a house ni this city, which contains a lot of 



52 A LITTLE ADVICE. 

bacon. Two or three raen could throttle and gag him 
and set fire to the house at any time ; and worse, he 
conceives that there is no necessity for a guard, as he is 
sometimes seen off duty, for a few moments — fully long 
enough for an incendiary to burn the house he watches. 
Let Mr. Shakelford, whom we know to be watchful and 
attentive to his duties, take the responsibility at once of 
placing a well armed guard of sutficient force around 
every house containing government stores. Let this 
be done without waiting for instructions from Eicli- 
mond. 

One other thought. The press is required b}^ the 
Government to keep silent about the movements of the 
army, and a great many things of the greatest interest 
to our people. It has, in the main, patriotically com- 
plied. We have complied in most cases, but our judg- 
ment was against it all the while. The plea is that the 
enemy will get the news, if it is published in our papers. 
Now, we again ask, what's the use ? The enemy get 
what information they want. They are with us and 
pass among us almost daily. They find out from us 
what they want to know, by passing through our coun- 
try unimpeded. It is nonsense, it is folly, to deprive 
our own people of knowledge they are entitled to and 
ought to know, for fear the enemy AviJl find it out. 
We ought to have a regular system of passports over 
all our roads, and refuse to let any man pass who could 
not give a good account of himself — come well vouched 
for and make it fully appear that he is not an enemy, 
and that he is on legitimate business. This would keep 
information from the enemy far more effectually than 
any reticence of the press, which ought to lay before our 
people the full facts in everything of a public nature. 



CHAPTER lY. 

"Nip and Tuck" — A Grand Old "Yankee" Man-Hunt— Citizens, 
Soldiers and Dogs Join the Chase — Mark Wood and I Squat 
in a Little Brush Pile — The Secesh Come to the Hunt by 
Hundreds — "Ticklish" Situation for Thirty -Six Hours — 
Escape to the Mountains — Discovered by Women in a Fod- 
der-Pile — We Tell a Plausible Story — Begging Victuals — 
Another Lynx-Eyed Woman — "You Are Union Men; You 
Can't Fool Me." 

"By night I heard them on the track, 
Their troops came hard upon our back, 
VS'ith their long gallop, which can tire 
The hound's deep hate, and hunter's fire. ** 



G-j 




I 



return to our flight from the engine. After 
running some distance, Wood and I came to a 
large, open field, on the slope of a mountain just in 
front of us. To attempt to cross this wide, open space 
would expose us too much for safety, besides, we were 
nearly out of breath — too near, at least, to attempt 
such a run. We were in much perplexity as to what to 
do. We could hear the enemy shouting, and the con- 
stant report of fire-arms warned us that the remorseless, 
blood-thirsty crowd w^as waging a war of extermina- 
tion, and, as we listened, we could distinctly hear them 
coming as w^ell as see them. There was no time to be 
lost. A fortuitous circumstance saved us. The woods 
w^ere too open for a man to hide in, but as I glanced 

(53) 



54 IN A DESPERATE STRAIT. 

about I saw where a tree had been cut down, probably 
in the summer previous, and the brush which had been 
trimmed off lay scattered around with the dried leaves 
still clinging to it. My plan was formed instantly and 
I told Wood to lay down. I hastily laid a few leafy 
bouofhs on him in such a manner as not to show that 
they had been displaced. Mark was soon out of sight 
in a little flat, unpretentious pile, that would scarcely 
be noticed among the other rubbish, and with almost 
the quickness of a rabbit I slipped out of sight under 
the heap by Mark's side. I now drew my revolver and 
told Mark to do likewise. I felt a sense of desperation 
which I had never felt before. We were in a high 
state of excitement and realized that the frenzied crowd 
of man-hunters, then deploying all over the woods, 
would show us no mercy. From the constant report of 
fire-arms which rang in our ears, we had reason to be- 
lieve that some of our unfortunate comrades were being 
shot down like cattle, perhaps all except ourselves had 
been killed. We felt that in all human probability we 
would be discovered, indeed it seemed almost impossible 
that they could miss finding us. We felt that if discov- 
ered it would be more manly to stand up and die fight- 
ing, even against great odds and with no hope of escape, 
than to be shot down like dogs unresistingly, or, in the 
alternative that we should possibly be taken prisoners, 
hung like felons, at the end of a sham trial. 

A7e were surrounded on every side by enemies thirst- 
ing for our blood. As I afterwards learned, within a 
few hundred yards from where we left our engine, two 
regiments of cavalry were encamped. It was muster- 
day at Einggold, two miles away, and hundreds of 



ANGUISH OF DESPAIR. 65 

farmers, armed and mounted, were collected there. The 
road was lined with soldiers. The alarm had been sent 
to Chattanooga by telegraph, and trains loaded with 
troops and scouts were hurrying to the scene. The 
day was dark, cloudy and rainy. Our boys were unac- 
quainted with the country, and with the stars and sun 
hidden did not know the south from the north. Within 
an hour or two the whole country was alive with 
scouts and hunters. There was not a by-path or cross- 
road that was not thoroughly explored. To add to the 
terrors of the situation, well-trained hounds were put 
upon the track of our party, and many of them were 
trailed down with unerring certainty. In my conceal- 
ment I felt all the desperation and anguish of mind 
that a man could feel in my situation. We had failed 
and were disappointed. We had been run down and 
had gone to the last extremity of human endurance to 
make our escape. Our enemies were infuriated. We 
had made such superhuman exertions within the last 
half hour, ending in our up-hill race to the brush-heap, 
that Ave were almost breathless. It did not at that 
time seem to me that it Avould require many rebel bullets 
to finish my part of the story. Several times, as they 
passed us so close that I could have touched their legs 
with my hand, I was on the point of springing up, and, 
witli a loud yell, beginning the work of death at close 
range with my revolver. I could not, even in a whis- 
per, communicate my wishes to Wood, without betray- 
ing our place of concealment. Our hearts thumped so 
loud that it seemed to me they could be heard twenty- 
yards distant. Mark had run till he could run no fur- 
ther. But our pursuers made so much noise themselves 



56 THIRTY-SIX HOURS OF TERROR. 

that they could hear nothing else. They were all 
yelling, swearing, cursing and shooting. They were 
like dogs chasing a rabbit in tall weeds — all jumping 
and looking high, while the game was close to the 
ground. AVe could hear much of the conversation as 
they passed us. Two stalwart johnnies, each with a 
musket, as they passed near us, spied two of our com- 
rades going across a distant part of the great open 
field. 

" There goes two of them, " said one of the johnnies. 

" Come on, let's go for them ! " 

" Let us get some more help, " said the other. 

" But, you see, they have no guns, " said the first. 

And thus they passed out of hearing, halting and 
debating, but evidently distrusting the policy of tack- 
ling the train-robbers even-handed. 

It was some time in the afternoon when we took ref- 
uge in the brush-heap, and in that spot we were com- 
pelled to remain all that night, all the next day and far 
into the second night, before we dared venture forth. 
The night was one of terrible anxiety to us. Our con- 
dition was perilous in the extreme. The entire night 
long could be heard the shouts and yells and impreca- 
tions and firing of the frenzied horde. The Avhole 
country was aroused and swarmed with soldiers and 
citizens. Every road and cross-road was watched night 
and day that none of the " rascals '' might escape. We 
could hear the deep baying of blood-hounds, as they 
scoured through woods and fields, but, luckily for us, 
so many men had tramped over the ground in the 
vicinity of the place where we jumped from the train 
that the dogs could not work. Still men and dogs 



LEAVIisG OUR HIDING-PLACE. 57 

were scouring the woods in every direction and it was 
unsafe to make tirades. To add still more to the wretch- 
edness of our condition, the rain was almost incessant. 
The place of our concealment was a little lower than 
the ground surrounding and much of the time the 
water was three or four inches deep where we lay. This, 
with hunger and wet clothing, made us extremely un- 
comfortable. 

After darkness had closed in for some time, on the 
second night, however, we were compelled to come out, 
capture or no capture. We could stand it no longer. 
On crawling out, our limbs were so stiff and sore that 
it was with the utmost difficulty that we could move, 
and it was only by rubbing and working them vigor- 
ously that we could begin to use them. It did not seem 
that we could travel very far, do our best, with such 
stiffened limbs. After looking about, we decided to 
take an opposite course from that which our comrades 
had taken, thinking there would be less vigilance on 
the part of the hunters in that direction. We desired 
also to get into the mountains, thinking we would there 
have a better chance for our lives. I suppose at this 
time we were less than twenty miles from Chattanooga. 
The rain still fell in torrents, but as we went on and 
our stiffened limbs got limbered up, we began to make 
good time. Our desire was, as soon as we could get 
beyond the immediate reach of our enemies, to bend 
our course in the direction of the Federal lines. But 
we must bv all means avoid Chattanooo:a. We knew 
that. 

We traveled as rapidly as we could that night, and 
about daybreak, of Monday morning, we saw an old 



58 DISCOVERED BY WOilEN. 

log but off by itself some distance from any road. We 
wished very much to get shelter from the cold rain, 
Avhich had chilled us almost to the point of freezing. 
We found the hut to be a sort of barn, the mow of 
which Avas full of bundles of corn-fodder. We made a 
hole down in the mow and covered ourselves out of 
sight and went to sleep. 

About one o'clock in the day, as we slumbered, we 
were awakened by somebody in the mow and soon 
found out that two women were looking there for eggs. 
One of them nearest us said: "Here is a hole; I 
wouldn't wonder if there is a nest in here;" and at the 
same time she thrust her hand down and, as bad luck 
would have it, she touched one of my hands and started 
back with a scream, which brought up the other w^oman 
and they threw off the bundles and there we w^ere. 
They were both badly frightened and ran for the house 
Avith all their might. We hastily crawled out and 
brushed some of the chaff from our clothes and after a 
moment's thought concluded that the best thing for us 
to do Avould be to go to the house and apologize to them 
and in addition try to get something to eat. 

Who is the man who has ever in his life vainly 
appealed, in a becoming and respectful manner, for 
food, when hungry, to a woman ? If man excels in 
the brutal art of Avar and killing his fellow beings with 
successful and unsparing hand, or being himself killed 
without a murmer, all of which passes for bravery, 
noble woman excels in those higher and more Godlike 
atti'ibutes of sympathy for the distressed and charity 
to the needy. I believe this to be true the world over, 
where woman is treated as the equal of man. 



FIKST MEAL SINCE OUR FLIGHT. 59 

"We went to the door, bowed politely and apologized for 
the unintentional scare we had caused them. We then 
told them we had been in pursuit of the train-robbers 
and that wet, cold and sleepy, we preferred to take 
shelter in the barn rather than disturb any one at the 
dead hour of night. This story seemed to be satisfac- 
tory to them, when we told them we were hungry and 
asked them for something to eat. They had just had their 
dinner and the table still stood out on the floor. They 
gave us a pitcher of butter milk and some corn-bread, 
all they had imless we would wait for them to cook us 
somethiufT, which we did not wish them to do, as we 
did not care to make our visit too tedious. This was 
the first food we had eaten since the morning we left 
Marietta and homely as was the fare it tasted good. 
We paid them and left much refreshed and strength- 
ened by our food and rest. We started away on a road, 
but as soon as we got well out of sight of the house we 
changed our course and soon after concealed ourselves 
in a dense thicket and there awaited the shades of night 
to come and conceal our further movements. 

We had not been in the thicket long before we saw 
a squad of mounted soldiers pass down tlie road we had 
previously left and which was some distance from us. 
From their loud talk and their manner of march, we 
concluded they were a party of man-hunters. AYhether 
they had gained any information at the house where 
we had been we could not tell, but we laid down and 
kept quiet. AYhen night came we shaped our course as 
near as Ave could, v^^ithout following any road, toward 
the Tennessee Eiver, east of Chattanooga. Daring the 
night march we narrowly missed running into a guard 



60 PANGS OF IIUNGEE. 

post at the crossing of a road, but fortunately heard 
them in time. We went around them and on our way 
undisturbed. At the dawn of Tuesday we had just 
arrived at the foot of the mountains and breathed 
easier, for we felt more secure than we had in the open 
country. We concealed ourselves in a comfortable 
place and witnessed the risino^ of the sun. Its loveli- 
ness and genial warmth never before cheered me so 
much as then. But we soon fell asleep from weariness 
and did not w^ake until nearly night. As soon as it was 
dark we started again. We had a toilsome night march, 
feeling our way over rocks, climbing precipitous places 
and at other times descending the steep mountain side 
on the run, through bushes and among rocks. 

When Wednesday morning came we found that we 
were still surrounded by mountains on all sides, with 
no signs of a habitation or a human being in sight. 
When the sun got well up and it was comfortably 
warm, we lay down and took a nap. The pangs of 
hunger w^ere, by this time, pressing us distressingly. 
We had in all this time only tasted food once since the 
raid began and that was the scanty meal "\ve made on 
buttermilk and corn-bread, Monday afternoon. In this 
starving extremity we decided that there was no great 
risk run in this lonely region if we should travel by 
day, and after so deciding, we pushed on w^ith our 
utmost energy, as a hungry man will do when he hopes 
soon to find food. 

We were guiding our course by the sun, and during 
the afternoon we came out on the brow of a high 
mountain, overlooking a beautiful little valley, thickly 
dotted with houses. From our elevated position we 



A SAVORY MEAL. 61 

could see everything the valley contained. I thought 
it one of the loveliest sights I had ever seen — that quiet, 
l)eaceful little valley. I looked at each house and 
wished that I could go into even the humblest and ask 
for a piece of corn-bread. I pictured in my hungry 
imagination the good things to eat in each little cottage, 
and wondered how we could safely manage to get a 
morsel of their stores of abundance to satisfy our great 
hunger. The more I looked at that little valley the 
more it looked like a little paradise ot peace and plenty, 
where sorrow and hunger never entered. And the 
longer I looked, the hungrier I became. 

ISTear the foot of the mountain was a small log house, 
a little separated from the rest, and Ave knew it was 
inhabited from the smoke that curled up from the 
chimney. We concluded to venture down and apply 
for food. A young-looking woman appeared at the 
door, and, after the salutations of the day, we told her 
that we had been lost in the mountains and were in 
need of something to eat. She invited us to seats, and 
at once set about getting us a meal. We inquired the 
way to the next town, the name of which I pretended 
I could not just speak, but she helped me out by men- 
tionino: the name — Cleveland. We learned from her 
that the town was only a short distance away and that 
there were no soldiers there. This was gratifying, but 
not near as much so as the savory odors of the ham, 
eggs and rye coffee she was preparing for us. We 
could hardly wait until the corn-bread was cooked, and 
when she invited us to take seats at her table, we soon 
gave her satisfactory evidence that we had told the 
truth about being hungry, although we had stretched 



62 BUYING A MAP. 

the facts a little about being lost. AYe pai.l the woman 
for our dinner, and, without delay, took our leave. 

We felt very much the need of a map, and after a 
near approach to the little town of Cleveland, and a 
careful survey of the surroundings, I left Wood in a 
secluded spot to wait while I walked boldly in and 
went to a book-store and asked for a school atlas. 
They had Mitchell's Geography and Atlas. As the 
author was none other than my commanding General, 
I had no reason to doubt that through the aid of 
his map I might reach his camp, if he had not moved 
too far since I left. I had to buy the geography too if 
I took the atlas, and, taking the books under my arm, 
like some countryman who lived near by in the moun- 
tains, no one seemed to pay any attention to me. We 
were soon in the woods again, when we tore out such por- 
tions of the atlas as we needed and hid the rest under a 
log, after which we took our course and pushed on, 
making good progress. We knew that we must, by 
this time, be in the vicinity of the Tennessee Eiver. 
Our plan was to reach the river as soon as possible and 
secure a boat of some kind, after which we would drift 
down the river to Bridgeport, Stevenson, or some point 
nearest the Federal lines. 

Towards evening of this day we came to the terminus 
of the mountain in this direction, and from its great 
height we had a commanding view of the valley below, 
which, though beautiful in scenery, was sparsely settled. 
In the evening we descended the mountain and felt our 
way cautiously across the valley. After a time we 
came to a log house. There seemed to be no stir about 
the premises, and, as we were still hungry, we concluded 



"you are union men!" G3 

to apply for something more to eat. "We had been so 
hungry that we had not dared to eat all our appetites 
craved at the last place. 

There was no man to be seen about the house, but 
the woman, who was a noble, dignified-looking lady, 
plainly dressed, told us to be seated. I noticed her 
looking at us with that scrutinizing, inquiring gaze of a 
woman in doubt, and I could read her thoughts as 
plainly as if she had spoken them to us. I knew 
enough about woman, too, to know that whatever her 
first impressions are they would be unchangeable, 
so I said, without further hesitation, "We are in need of 
something to eat." She said if we could put up with 
such fare as she had we were welcome. We told her 
that we were quite hungry and any kind of food would 
be welcome. As she proceeded about her work, I 
noticed that on every opportunity she scrutinized us 
very sharply, and I became a little uneasy. 

Presently she asked us if we were traveling, to which 
I replied that we were on our Avay to Harrison, which 
was a small village a few miles from there. I still 
noticed that she was eyeing us keenly and closely, and 
that her mind was not at rest on the subject, when sud- 
denly she turned, looked us squarely in the face, and 
startled us by saying : 

" You are Union men ! You can't fool me ! I know 
a Union man by his look. You need not deny it, nor 
need you be afraid to own it, either. I am a Union 
woman, and I am not afraid to own it to anybody. 
The secessionists around here don't like me a bit, for I 
say just what I think of them, Avhether they like it 
or not. Further, I know that you are Union men 



6i A tkup: union avo:man. 

trying to get to the Union army and you need not go 
to the trouble to deny it. I will do anything I can to 
help you." 

We stoutly denied any such intention, and told her 
that we had been soldiers in the Confederate army. 
Eut that did no good. She seemed to have made up 
her mind, and no assertions of onrs could change it. So 
we let her have it her own way and we had ours. 
Soon after her husband came in. He was rather a 
fine-looking fellow, with a frank, manly face. 

When supper was over we offered this loyal woman 
pay, but she refused to take our money, saying that 
anything she could do for a Union man she would do 
with a glad heart and willing hands. She said she 
wished the Union army would come — she would give 
them ever}^ thing she had before the rebels came in 
and robbed them. 

As we took our leave, she told her husband to give 
us all the information that he could as to our route, 
•*'For," said she to him, ''you know old Snow, with his 
.company of cavahy, is in the neighborhood, and he 
vv^ill be upon them before they know it. He is watch- 
ing every nook and road in the settlement to prevent 
Union men from getting away from the rebel conscrip- 
tion." 

Wq felt, while in the presence of these good people, 
that we were with friends, although we did not think it 
prudent to show any sort of sympathy or undue friend- 
ship with their expressions of loyalty, and, though we 
did not show it, we felt much regret at parting from 
them, for we seldom met with their like. We were 
convinced they were true Union people. 



CHAPTER Y. 

Captured by Old Snow's Cavalry — A Deceptive Story that 
Wins — A Terrible Risk — "Circumstances Alter Cases" — Re- 
leased — Taking the Oath — A Red-Hot Rebel Lecture — Again 
in the Mountains — A Loyal Woman in the Case, and Her 
No Less Loyal Husband — Stowed Away in a Safe Hiding 
Place — "I Knew You Were Union Men all the Time" — 
Night March with a Guide — SteaUng a Boat — Safe Amval 
on the Tennessee River — Night of Terror on the Tennessee — 
Storm of Sleet and Hail — Almost Frozen — Sheltered in a 
Cabin — A New Stoiy Invented. 

HAT night we passed in the 'woods, and contin- 
ued our journey Thursday morning. The valley 
through which our course lay was thickly inhab- 
ited, and we had observed the greatest possible pre- 
caution, as we supposed, in avoiding "old Snow's" 
cavalry. Our surprise was all the greater then, when, 
without the least warning, we lieard the stern 
command : 

"Halt there, you! IIa;t, or I Avill blow your brains 
out." 

A hasty glance around failed to discover any safe 
chance of retreat. AYe were captured, and there was 
no course for us to pursue but to submit to the unpleas- 
ant inevitable. We involuntarily clenched our revol- 
vers at the first warning of danger, but it Avas useless 
to open a fight with a large cavalry squad — the odds 
5 165) 



66 A STOIJY THAT MADE A LUCKY HIT. 

was too great. We would stand no show at all and we 
thoufi:ht perhaps we could, by a little diplomacVj effect 
our release from these captors. 

The captain of the squad seemed to be a pompous, 
and, according to his own account, a blood-Lhirsty w^ar- 
rior, for he said it was not his custom to take prisoners 
but to hang and shoot all who fell into his hands. He 
asked us a great man}^ questions, including, of course, 
our place of residence and our names, all of which we 
answered very promptly, although I will not say truth- 
fully, for truth Ave deemed " too great a pearl to cast 
before such swine." We told him we lived in Harrison, 
and gave him some names we had picked up, in w^hicli 
we must have struck him just right, for at once he 
inquired after the "old men, our fathers," Avhom he 
said he knew. We told him they were in excellent 
health. He said he was glad to hear it for he was well 
acquainted Avith both of them. "Eat," he continued, 
looking at us very sternly, " boys, it's my impression 
that you are running away from the conscription and 3^ou 
deserve to be shot as traitors for wanting to join the 
d — d Yankees." We told him we had not the slight- 
est intention of enlisting in the infernal Yankee army, 
w^hich w^as fast ruining the South and its people. After 
a moment's silence, and looking at us steadily, during 
which time, no doubt, he was mentally debating what 
course to pursue, he said : 

" For all I know you may belong to those spies and 
bridge-burners, and if 1 did not know your folks I would 
send you to Chattanooga, under arrest ; but I will tell 
vou what I Avill do : if you will take the oath and 
promise to go back home and stay until I call for you, 



THE LIFE OF A SPY. 67 

I will allow you to do so. I have known both j^our 
fathers for many years and have great respect for 
them. They have always been true men to the South, 
and out of consideration for them I will permit you to 
go back on the conditions 1 have named. 

JS^ow, there may be those with a nice discrimination 
of conscience who will condemn me and my comrade 
in misfortune — who has long since ceased his struggle 
with the cold charities of the world which brought with 
all its joys many sorrows on the poor fellow's head for 
Avhat we did — and if they do I shall not complain. 
But, dear comrade, or reader, I pray you before you 
lightly pass sentence of condemnation, remember that 
" circumstances alter cases." We vrere spies in citizens' 
clothes, inside the enemy's lines, caught near the camp 
— in one sense, liable to conviction imder the rules of 
war, for prowling around the enemy's camp. Besides, 
we had committed a crime for which, if we were dis- 
covered, no mercy would be shown us. The professional 
detective or spy lives a life of constant deception. He 
professes to be what he is not. lie practices deception 
to cover his tracks and to gain information, which can- 
not be had in a legitimate manner. Whether great 
exigencies of a public nature justify the practices neces- 
sary to the successful pursuit of such a profession, may 
be a question on Avhich moral philosophers can well dis- 
agree, but Avhich I am not competent to discuss. 

But we were in no condition for hair-splitting on 
minor points. Conscience, where the moral perceptions 
are to be consulted, and conscience, where a fellow's 
neck is at stake, are two djfi'erent things. We were 
not professional spies or detectives, although, for the 



68 A DESPERATE GAME. 

time boin^ and for the good of the cause in which we 
enlisted, we were to all intents and purposes practicing 
the arts of a spy. Our game had been a desperate one 
from tiie start. The players on the other side were as 
desperate as we were. The stakes on our part were to 
save our necks from the halter — from the death of 
felons. 

We had told a plausible story to this officer, by which 
we had so completely deceived him that he proposed to 
let us go, conditionally. lie had named the conditions 
and for us to have rejected them would have refuted 
the statements we had just made to him, namely, that 
we were Confederates. Eesides this, our detention a 
single hour might betray the falsity of our story about 
our living at Harrison. We were liable to b3 exposed 
any moment by some of the new troopers who were 
constantly arriving. We had to make our decision, and, 
quickly, too ; hesitation would betray us. Wood and I 
cast hasty glances at each other. ISTothing was said, 
but each seemed to read and understand the other's 
thoughts, which ran about to the effect, " it's the best 
thing we can do." We accordingly signified our accept- 
ance of his conditions, and he at once ordered us to fol- 
low him, he leading us back to what proved to be the 
house of a rank old rebel and within a half mile of the 
house we had left the evening before. Here he went 
through the ceremony of what he termed administering 
the oath, after which he, with the aid of the hot-tem- 
pered, forked-tonguod old woman of the house, gave us 
the most fiery lecture on the subject of Southern rights 
and Northern wrongs we had ever heard. It was a 
one-sided affair, however, for we listened in silence, 



A LUCKY ESCAPE. 69 

except now and then to put in a word as a clincher to 
some red-hot assertion they made. After the captain 
and old woman had both exhausted their vocabulary of 
words pretty well, we told the captain that we hoped 
it would not be long until he w^ould find it convenient 
to call upon us for our services in the cause. He 
seemed much pleased at the favorable effect his eloquent 
harangue had worked upon us and as we hastily shook 
hands with him preparatory to leaving, he handed us 
back our revolvers, which he had previously taken 
from us. 

This we considered a lucky escape and we started off 
in fine spirits after the depressing uncertainty occa- 
sioned by this capture. It was not long until we were 
again in the mountains, where we soon after found a 
place of safety where we rested and slept till near night. 
After we awoke we talked over the situation. What 
we desired was to get across the wide, thickly-settled 
valley to the river and find a boat. How to do it and 
evade capture was what concerned us most just now. 
If, by a streak of bad luck, we should again fall into 
the hands of old Snow or his crowd, w^e would fare 
hard, for we had promised him to take the back track. 
In this state of perplexity we decided to trust ourselves 
in the hands of the man and woman who had treated 
us so kindly and professed so much devotion to the 
Union cause. ^Ve knew that if the man was true, as 
he professed to be, that he could render us the assist- 
ance we so much needed. AVe had reason to believe, 
too, that both he and his wife were just what they pro- 
fessed — truly loyal people to our cause. We knew, 
however, that if we ventured near tliis house that we 



70 SEEKINO AID. 

must do it with great caution, otherwise we might be 
discovered, and thus not only be captured, but com- 
promise our good, kind friends. 

It was, therefore, late on Thursday evening, v>^hen, 
having left Wood a few paces from the house to keep a 
1 )ok-out, I Avent noiselessly to the door and knocked. 
The family had retired and the house was still as death. 
I knocked again and again, but finally heard tlie 
woman tell her husband there was some one at the 
door. Soon the man opened the door and seemed to 
know me at the first glance or by the sound of my 
voice. lie spoke to me kindly and invited me in. 
While he was speaking to me I observed from some 
indications, I could not distinctly see, that his wife stood 
near by to kill me instantly in case any sign of foul 
play had been noticed. Those Avere times in Tennessee 
and Northern Georgia, and other places in the South, 
when some shocking tragedies took })lace. Men were 
hunted and shot down in their own door-yards and 
homes, for their loyalty to the old flag, and these per- 
secuted, hunted people were generally ready for the 
worst and generally defended themselves to the death. 
In this defense the women often took a ready hand. 
The woman I am now speaking of would have been a 
dangerous one for any rebel to have attacked, if she 
had been given the least warning or had half a chance. 
It need then be no matter of surprise that s'.ie held a 
cocked rifle on me as I stood near the door, ready, on 
the least suspicious movement on my part, to have 
dropped me in my tracks. 

I told the man I would like to speak a few words 
with him privately. He stepped a few paces from the 



SLIGHTLY " CHEEKY." 71 

door SO that ^ve "were sure no person was in hearing 
distance. I then, in a low tone of voice, asked him if 
he could, of his own free, voluntary will, assist a Union 
man in distress, if he had the opportunity. I then 
paused and watched him intently and at once noticed 
that he was embarrassed. lie acted like a man who 
suspected some trick — as if he thouo^ht I had been sent 
to entrap him for the purpose of betraying his loyalty. 
I was assured by his actions ; for had he been a rebel 
and had wished to entrap me, he would have unhesitat- 
ingly answered, "Yes," and encouraged me to reveal 
myself. I relieved his embarrassment by saying, 
" There is no trick in this ; I am a Union man in deep 
trouble, the nature of which I am not just at liberty to 
mention now. I need a friend and assistance." He 
then answered and said he would render any assistance 
in his power, not only to us but for the Union cause. 

"Wood had by this time come to where we were and 
I told the stranger to hold up his hand and be sworn, 
which he did, and I administered to him the following 
oath : 

" You do most solemnly swear in our presence and 
before Almighty God, that you will not betray us to 
our enemies, but that you will do all that lies in your 
power to secrete, aid, protect and defend us." 

To all of which he answered, " I will." 

We then shook hands, and after making sure that no 
ear could hear us, I revealed to him a part of our story 
and who we were. He was a brave man and a true 
man, and, hearing our story, seemed to increase his 
interest and friendship in our behalf. We w^atched 
this man closely to observe if he took such precautions 



72 SNUGLY STOWED AWAY. 

as a man would take who honestly desired our safety, 
and were gratified to see that he did. About the first 
thing", he told us that we must not come near, nor be 
seen about his house. He told us to follow him, 
and he led the way to an old abandoned house, where 
he had first lived when he located on the farm, and 
which stood in a secluded spot, remote from the road. 
In the center of the old floor was a trap-door, which 
opened into a hole about four feet square, which, during 
the occupancy of the house, had been used as a sort of 
cellar. Here we toolc up our quarters. He then went 
to the house and brought out a bundle of quilts for us 
to lie on. lie next told us to avoid talking loud, and 
keep out of sight, in which case we would be perfectly safe 
until he could get an opportunity to pilot us safely out. 
lie told us that no human being would be apprised of our 
whereabouts, except his wife, who was our friend, 
and would do as much for our safety as himself. He 
then left us and v/ent to the house, first telling us that 
he would visit us in the morning, and bring us rations. 
We fixed ourselves very comfortably with the quilts, 
and, although our bed-room would not admit of our 
stretching our limbs out full length, we doubled up and 
enjoyed a very comfortable night's rest, something we 
had not done before for a long time. 

The next morning, Friday, we heard our friend not 
far off calling and feeding his pigs, and not long after 
he quietly lifted off a board over the little cellar, when 
we put out our heads, shook hands with him, and took a 
sniff of the morning air. He carried a small basket which 
seemed to contain corn, which he passed down to us, 
but we found our breakfast underneath the corn, and 



REFLECTIONS. 73 

after taking it out we replaced the corn and gave him 
back the basket. He spoke a few encouraging words 
to us, telling us we must not get restive but bide our 
time, when he replaced the board, scattered some straw 
over the old floor and left us. 

We had time and opportunity in this dark little den 
to deliberate on the follies of the past and build up 
hopes for the future. Our first and greatest anxiety 
was as to the fate of our comrades, from whom we had 
separated when we all jumped from the train. No one 
who has not been similarly situated can realize the anx- 
ious thoughts we had about them. AVe had lain near 
by and heard the rattle of musketry, the exultant shouts 
of the pursuers and the baying of the dogs in hot pur- 
suit. It seemed impossible that all should escape. Per- 
haps we alone had been so fortunate. But who had 
been the unfortunate ones, and how had they met their 
fate ? Perhaps some one more fortunate than the rest 
had by this time reached our comrades in the regiment 
and told them of the collapse of our expedition and 
that some of us were probably refugees in the mount- 
ains and our anxious friends at home would thus get 
some tidings from which to form conjectures as to our 
fate. These were some of the thoughts that occu]>ied 
our minds in the dark, dismal little cellar. But 
thoughts of a still more weighty nature bore heavily 
upon us. They were of the present and near future. 

While we were talking in a low tone of voice, we 
heard footsteps on the ground and soon after the board 
was lifted and some one spoke to us in a friendly voice. 
We put out our heads, and there stood before us, with 
the basket of corn, not our sworn friend of the night 



74 THAT NOBLE, LOYAL WOMAN AGAIN. 

before, but bis wife, tbe good, true Union woman, to 
whom only a day or so before we had denied our coun- 
try. It would be impossible for me to describe my feel- 
ings at that time in the presence of that noble, loyal, 
patriotic woman. I felt that we, men and soldiers as 
we were, had reason to feel humiliation in her presence 
for having doubted her word and her sincere profes- 
sions of loyalty and friendship. 

"I knew," said she, "that you were Union men all 
the time, and I am still ready to make good my prom- 
ise, to not only do all I can for you, but for the Union 
cause." She told us that her husband had gone to 
assist a neighbor about some work and left us in her 
charge, and that she had brought our dinner. She spoke 
a few words of encouragement to us, and praised our 
daring effort, as she termed it, to steal the railroad 
away from the rebels, at the same time expressing her 
sorrow tiiat we had not succeeded, and that the Union 
army could not before that time have taken possession 
of the country and driven the rebels out. By this time 
we had taken our rations from the basket and replaced 
the corn, and she replaced the board ov^er us and scat- 
tered straw about, as her husband had done, and 
left us. 

In this way vre remained secreted for several days. 
This delay was for several reasons. In the first place, 
we were nearly disabled with sore feet from our nio-ht 
marches in the mountains. In the next place, we knew 
that the longer the time that elapsed after the raid, 
the less vigilance would be observed by the rebels, Avho 
would tire of the pursuit. Then, most important of 
all, we had to wait till our friends could find a suitable 



ON THE MARCn AGAIN. 75 



person to conduct us out to the river safely, for the 
nights vvere, at that time, almost ns hght as clay. 

A trusty guide was found in the person of the brother 
of the loyal y\'oman whose guests we then were. This 
3^oung man, who knew the country well, conducted ns 
by a circuitous night-march to a creek, perhaps the 
Chickamauga or McLarimore's, a tributary of the Ten- 
nessee. 

Our great trouble had been, in this mountainous 
country, to keep the right course. Ev^en if we knew 
the direction we desired to take, it was next to impossi- 
ble to follow it by night travel, on account of the un- 
evenness of the country. It was this that made us so 
anxious to reach the river, which would afford us a sure 
means of night travel, and guide us to a point near the 
Federal army. Unfortunate!}^, when we reached the 
creek, the boat was on the opposite side. 

Here our guide took his leave of us, and we set about 
finding a way to secure the boat. I ilrst thought to 
swim the creek, which was very high and running 
driftwood. After considering the matter, however, 
I adopted a better plan. Mark secreted himself, near 
the bank below, where I could easily find him. I then 
went to an open space on the bank and halloed. It 
was now daylight, and a man soon answered. I told 
him I wished to cross over, and he soon came and took 
me to the other side. He was unable to change a fiv^e- 
dollar Confederate note, and I told him I expected to 
cross back next morning, and woul try to have the 
change for him, which he said would ao. I then walked 
briskly on the road leading to Harrison, until I came 
to the first turn in the roo,d, when I went into the 



76 DOWN THE TENNESSEE. 

woods and hid m^^self until dark. After dark I went 
back and cautiously approached the place where the 
boat was tied. After satisfying m3^self that the " coast 
was all clear," I hastily paddled over to the other side, 
took Mark aboard, and we were soon floating toward 
the. Tennessee. After encountering some troublesome 
blockades of driftwood, and a rebel steamboat or patrol 
gunboat, we arrived safely in the Tennessee River. 

This patrol boat gave us some concern. She lay in 
the mouth of the creek with her " nose " to the shore, 
while her stern lay not far from the opposite bank of 
the narrow stream. When we first saw her lights, we 
supposed it to be a cabin near the banks of the creek, 
and did not discover our mistake until we were right 
up to her, for the night was pitch dark, and it was 
raining. These latter circumstances enabled us, by 
lying down, and quietly steering our boat close under 
the stern of the steam craft, to glide by unnoticed. I 
thought if we only had our crowd of train boys along, 
and Wilson Brown to man the engine, we might easily 
have taken possession of the craft, and given the rebels 
unother big scare, and, perhaps, all of us escape. But 
it might not have been any easier to steal a steamboat 
and get away with it than a railroad train. We drifted 
on, and in a few moments after, we were happy voy- 
agers in the Tennessee lliver, going down stream with 
the swift current. 

AYe felt this to be an achievement much in our favor. 
We had now a decidedly good chance of escape, if we 
observed due caution — at least we thouglit so. This 
ni":ht was one of the worst I ever remember of durino^ 
my army life. Those comrades who have campaigned 



DISMAL NIGHT OF COLD AND EAIN. 77 

in East Tennessee, will not need be told how disagreea- 
ble a cold rain storm is there. The incessant rain was 
accompanied by a high wind, blinding our eyes much 
of the time, while the dark, rapid, seething waters car- 
ried our little boat on with maddening fury. Some- 
times we would find ourselves going round and round 
in a great eddy or swirl, next striking the point of some 
island, or, nearly knocked from the boat by some low- 
hanfjinfj tree from a short turn in the river bank, or 
getting a startling thump from some on-rushing log or 
drifting tree. We Avere in constant apprehension, for 
in the black darkness, we could not see whither we 
w^ere going, and so benumbed were we with wet and 
cold, that we had but little control of the boat, and our 
ears were our only guide for safety. 

When the night was pretty well spent, we began to 
have a little anxiety as to where daylight would catch 
us. We knew we had been making good time, and 
that Chattanooga lay not far ahead of us. We also 
knew that it would not do for us to show ourselves in 
that locality in daylight. We now began to keep a 
look-out for a safe landing place. After several ineffect- 
ual attempts we found that to land along the steep 
banks, in our benumbed condition, was both difficult and 
dangerous. We soon discovered that we Avere passmg 
Avhat seemed to be a small island. We hugged close 
along the shore until we reached the lower end, and 
a place where the rapid current did not strike our boat, 
and by the aid of our paddles and the overhanging tree 
branches, we effected a safe landing in the dark, and 
drew our boat up on the bank. We took shelter under 
a great forked tree, and wrung the water from our coats. 



78 CHILLED WITH sleet and hail. 

The storm, by this time, bad changed to sleet and 
hail, and it did seem to me that we must perish with 
cold. AVe beat our benumbed hands and arms about 
our bodies, to try to keep up the circulation of the 
blood, but we were chilled to the bone. I have never, 
not even in the coldest winter of the North, experienced 
so much suffering from cold as I did on that terrible 
night. Poor Wood, who afterwards died of consump- 
tion, seemed to suffer even more than I did. Kever 
did I see the light of day approach with more gratitude 
than on that dismal island at the end of that night of 
terror. Tlie sun brought no warmth, but its welcome 
light revealed to us a cabin near the shore, from w^hose 
stone chimney the smoke ^vas curling up. We at once- 
decided to go there and w^arm ourselves, even if we had 
to fight for the privilege, for we might as well perish 
fighting, as with the cold. 

We at once launched our boat and crossed from the 
island to the shore. As we landed on the bank to go 
up to the house, Wood, whose teeth w^ere chattering, 
and who looked both drowned and frozen, said to me, 
" Alf, you will have to make up some lie to tell them ; 
they will ask us a thousand questions." 

I said, "I don't know what I can tell them; I am 
too cold to speak the truth, though." But I told Mark 
to say but little, so that we need not "cross" one 
another in our story. 

We were admitted to the cabin, and, as I stood be- 
fore the great fire-place, I noticed the family viewing 
our bedraggled, drowned, forlorn appearance with 
some curiosity, especially the man of the house. After 
I got so that I could talk freely, I inquired if there 



"LOOEING for STRA.NGE BOATS." 79 

were any boats about there. lie said he knew of none 
except his own, which the Confederates allowed him to 
have to cross over to the island to his work, lie then 
asked me if we were looking for boats. I told him we 
were, and that we had orders to destroy all we found, 
with the exception of a few owned and in charge of 
the right kmd of men. I told him the object, of course, 
was to prevent Union men from running away from 
the conscription. 

" I thought that was your business, " said he. " There 
was a lot of soldiers along here a few.days ago and de- 
stroyed every boat they could find." 

He asked if we stayed at Chattanooga. I told him 
that our company was there. I further said : " Then 
you don't know of any boats along here, except your 
own ? " He said he did not. After some further talk, 
I asked him if we could get some breakfast with them. 
He said we could. I then told him we were in the con- 
dition of most soldiers — that we had no money, but 
that I did not think it any dishonor for a man in the 
service of his country to a^sk for food. He said it was 
perfectly right. 

We then took olf our coats ar.d hung them up to dry 
a little while we were at breakfast. After we had be- 
come thoroughl}'- warmed, and partly dried our clo- 
thing, we took our leave, telling the man to keep an 
eye out for any boats that miglit possibly be lying 
about loose in his vicinit}^ 

AYe now resumed oar boat voyage, and did not spend 
much time hunting for strange boats, but availed our- 
selves of the first good opportunit^T- to land and secrete 
ourselves. Our hiding place vfas in a thicket in a field, 



80 WATCHING OUR BOAT. 

near enough where our boat was tied so that we could 
watch it. The storm had subsided, and during the 
afternoon the sun shone out brif^rht and warm and a 
high wind prevailed. 

Sometime before night, a man and boy passed across 
the field not far from us, and the boy soon got his eyes 
on our canoe and cried out, " There's a canoe, pap ! "^ 
They went down to it, and, from their actions, we saw 
that they were going to take it away. I spoke to Wood 
and told him that it would not do to allow them to do 
so, and we walked out of the thicket on the further side 
from them, and leisurely came down to where they 
were, when I said : 

" Hallo, there ! Avhat are you doing with that boat ? 

" I thought it had drifted here, and I was going to 
take care ol it," was the reply. 

"That is a government boat," said I. *'We tied it 
up here awhile ago on account of the high wind." 

I then repeated the boat story which we had before 
told at our last stopping-place This seemed to be an 
entirely satisfactory explanation to him. 

I then said to Mark, " Do vou think the wind will 
admit of our proceeding on our way to Chattanooga?" 

The man spoke up, before Mark could answer, and 
said, " Men, I would not advise you to venture on the 
river now. It is not safe. You had better go down to 
the house, and wait till the wind falls." 

This proposition suited us well enough, under the 
circumstances, so we accepted his invitation, and ac- 
companied him to his cabin. We found his wife a very 
talkative old lady, Siie sympathized heart and soul, 
she said, with soldiers, for she had a son in the army, 



"must eetcjen to camp.' 81 

who sent word home that he had a pretty hard time 
of it. 

Night came, but the wind still blew a gale. They 
invited us to stay all night with them, but we told 
them that it was absolutely necessary that we should be 
back to camp by the next day, if possible. We had 
learned, in the meantime, that we were only five miles 
above Chattanooga, and we timed our start so as to 
pass there at the most favorable time. 
C 



CHAPTER YI. 

Running by Chattanooga — A Dangerous Voyage — Through 
WhMpools and Rapids — Lucky Encounter With a Log — 
Taking On a Pilot — A Terrific Ride — Hailed By Rebel Cav- 
alry — Reconnoitering a Rebel Camp at Bridgeport — A Rebel 
Stampede — Arrival at Stevenson — Fatal Mistake — Cause of 
the Stampede — Captured Within Seven Miles of Mitchell's 
Lines — A Story that Didn't Win — Sent to Bridgeport Under 
Guard — "These Are the Two Train-Thieves We Have Been 
Looking After so Long." 

M^BOUT midnight the wind went down, and we 
pushed out in our little boat and long before day- 
lio-ht we were quietly drifting past Chattanooga, 
that most '' ticklish '' point. When we had fairly passed 
that dreaded city, we felt that the greatest part of our 
task was over. We began to imagine ourselves almost 
back again among our old comrades of the Twent^^-First. 
We felt encouraged and jubilant. We soon found, 
however, that it was not to be all smooth sailing yet. 
Some ten or fifteen miles below the city, the river 
runs through a deep gorge, and narrows down to only 
a small proportion of its former width. The mountains 
rise abruptly from the water in frowning grandeur, 
while great rocks, from dizzy heights, project out over 
the rushing, foaming torrent below. To increase the 

(82) 



DASHING DOWN A GOKGE. 83 

troubles of navigation here, the river makes a sharp 
turn to the left, after a long, straight stretch, during 
which time the water gathers great velocity of motion, 
and suddenly dashes against the wall of rock at the 
elbow, recoils, and forms a great, rapid, foaming eddy, 
after which it rushes on down the gorge in mad fury, 
as if trying to get revenge for the check it has just 
received. We perceived, even in the darkness, that 
there was danger ahead. The great roar and noise 
caused by the dashing of the angry waters against the 
rocks warned us. We huo^ored the left bank with our 
little boat as closely as possible. As we passed the 
angry Avhirlpool, into which we seemed to be drifting, 
our boat was struck a tremendous blow by a floating 
log. We thought we were all dashed to pieces. The 
blow hoisted us away, however, several yards to the 
left, and we went flying down the gorge like the wind. 
We were afterwards told that a number of adventur- 
ous persons had, at different times, lost their lives in 
trying to run down this place, by getting swamped in 
this great torrent, or whirlpool, and it was, no doubt, 
owing to the blow received by the floating log, by 
which our boat was knocked just be^^ond the reach of 
danger, that we escaped as fortunately as we did. It 
was a providential blow for us, although it came well 
nigh crushing our boat. We pulled at our paddles 
with might and main to keep the water from swamp- 
ing our boat, which sank pretty low in the current and 
was now going at railroad speed. We soon reached 
smoother water, and again felt ourselves safe. 

It was now getting light, and, as we drifted on, we 
saw a man on shore motioning with all his might for 



84: ANOTHER FEAUFUL KIDE. 

US to approach him. As there seemed to be something 
unusual about his actions, ^ve pulled in a little, when 
he hailed us and said if we went on as we were then 
going, we would be drowned in spite of fate. lie said, 
"You are strangers in these parts, ain't you?" We 
told him we had never been down the river before, 
although quite familiar Avith the country. lie then 
said, "Strangers, Avhatever you do, don't try to run 
down through the 'suck.' I have lived here all my 
life, and have known men who were well acquainted 
with the river, to be drowned there. It is much worse 
than the place you have just passed." 

We tried to persuade him to go with us and pilot us 
down, but he said he was not well. At last, however, 
with much urging and the promise of three dollars, he 
consented to go. We rowed to the shore, and, after 
providing himself with an extra paddle, he came aboard 
and took charge of our craft, which we ran as close to 
the left shore as possible. The water ran with such 
great velocity and force that we found it almost impos- 
sible to control the boat, although we all had paddles, 
and were pulling as if for life. Our new pilot under- 
stood his business well and knew how to man a boat. 

At the place Avhere we apprehended most danger, 
the river runs through a narrow gorge. The ^vhole vol- 
ume of water, thus circumscribed, draws right to the 
center of the channel. After a ride which I never 
wish to repeat, we passed in safety, with no further mis- 
hap than getting our boat nearly full of water, which 
we soon bailed out. Our pilot now gave us careful 
directions as Lo the course we should take in the river 
below, after whicli we dismissed him, first paying him 



BAD PLACE TO FOOL AROUND. 85 

three dollars, which we felt had been a good invest- 
ment, as we would have doubtless been drowned, but 
for the accidental fact of meeting this man. Though 
it had been our practice to travel only in the night, yet 
we had been compelled, through the difficulty of nav- 
igating this part of the river, to travel in da3^1ight, 
which was imprudent, as we were constantly reminded. 

I may state just here a fact, which is well known to 
all men, who, in time of war, have tried to escape from 
prison. The most critical part of a journey is that 
which lies immediately between the two contending 
armies. At such places, between the two hostile lines, 
patrols are constantly moving about. Outposts are 
established on all important roads, while vidette and 
picket posts, in command of the most active and vigi- 
lant officers, are constantly on tlie alert for spies, scouts, 
or prowling bands of cavalrymen from the enemy's camp. 
Every stray man is picked up and sent to the officer of 
the guard, who either sends him to the guard-house, or 
to the General at headquarters, and if the unfortunate 
fellow does not tell a pretty straight story, or if there 
is anything suspicious about his appearance, he is put 
under strict guard, and, perhaps, ordered tried by a 
drumhead court martial, charged with being a spy. It is 
the worst place in the world to be caught fooling around 
— this ground between two hostile armies in camp. A 
man is almost certain to be captured, unless he is well 
posted, and, if captured, he must give a very strict 
account of himself. 

As before stated, we found it unsafe to travel in day- 
time, and, shortly after dismissing our pilot, we spied 
a squad of rebel cavalry on the right bank of the river. 



SQ A DISAPPOINTMENT. 

Luckily, the river was pretty wide at that place, and we 
chanced to be well to the far side from them. They 
yelled to us to come ashore, but we pretended not to 
hear them, and acted as if we were intending to land 
leisurely on the far side. "VVe wxre too far away for 
convenient musket range, and did not fear them much, 
but the circumstance caused us to think it best to land 
a few miles below, and secrete both ourselves and the 
boat. 

During the voyage of the following night, or rather 
just before daylight, we passed the Bridgeport railroad 
crossing. We could see the guards on the bridge, but 
did not know whether they were rebels or Yankees, so 
in this uncertainty we let our boat drift quietly with 
the current, and passed by unnoticed. We supposed 
confidently that General Mitchell had occupied Bridge- 
port. So after we had passed below the bridge, out of 
sight, we landed, and Mark remained with the boat 
while I stole up to the camp to find out what kind of 
soldiers were there. It did not take me long, however, 
to discover that they wore butternut uniforms, and I 
hurried back to the canoe. Mark's disappointment 
knew no bounds. I could scarcely convince him that I 
told the truth. 

About sunrise we stopped and hid our canoe, and 
feeling somewhat hungry, and also anxious to learn 
something about the Federals, Ave concluded to skulk 
off a short distance, and see Avhat we could find. It 
was not long until we found a cabin, where we got 
breakfast and learned that the Yankees were at Ste- 
venson, or a short distance the other side. Soon 
after leaving this cabin we met a squad of soldiers in 



WOFULLY DECEIVED. 87 

full retreat. They told us that we had better be 
" lighting out ; " that the roads and woods were " alive 
with the d — d Yankee cavalry. They are in Stevenson 
and pushing on this way in heavy force." We ex- 
pressed some little apprehension, but went on a little 
further, when we met more rebel jnilitia, who told us 
the same story. It seemed as if there was a regular 
stampede among them. 

"VVe now became pretty well convinced that if we 
could get safely to Stevenson we would be all right. 
So we went back to our canoe and rowed down the 
river again, until we thought we were about opposite 
the town, which is about four miles north from the 
river. Then we tied up the canoe and struck out 
through the woods for the town. Just before reaching 
the place, we had to cross a creek, after which we 
ascended a very long, steep hill. When we had reached 
the top of this hill, we were somewhat surprised to 
find ourselves right in the town, but not half so much 
astonished as we were to find no blue-coats there, but 
the streets swarming with rebel soldiers. We had been 
wofully deceived by the stories of the frightened fugi- 
tives we had met in the forenoon, and had unwarily 
entrapped ourselves. 

' AVood proposed that we should start and run, but I saw 
that course would not answer, so we determined to put 
on a bold front, and take our chances, though we knew 
we ran great risk. We met and spoke with a number 
of soldiers. Some of the officers noticed us carelessly, 
while others paid no attention to us as we passed them. 
We went into a store and bought some tobacco, and 
inquired for some other trifling things, and then started 



88 A FATAL ACCUSATION. 

off as unconcernedly as if we were a couple of country 
fellows, accustomed to visiting the town. We had 
gone some little distance, when we were met by an offi- 
cer, who stopped us and said that he would have to 
inquire our business there, and who we were. These 
were pointed questions, but we knew it would be neces- 
sary to meet them. We told him who we Avere and all 
about it, and he appeared well satisfied with our 
answers and Avas about to dismiss us, when, unfortu- 
nately for us, another man, 1 think a citizen, came up, 
and, pointing at me, said : 

''That is one of the d — d rascals that was here last 
night. lie rode through the town, cutting all the 
flourishes he knew how. I know him. He dare not 
deny it, either." 

In explanation of this man's singular, unexpected, 
and to us fatal accusation, I will say that I afterwards 
learned that a squad of daring troopers, from the Fourth 
Ohio Cavalr}^, had, on the previous night, made 
a reckless dash into the place, cutting and slashing on 
all sides, stampeding the whole town, and running out 
the few rebel cavalry stationed there, who supposed 
that General Mitchell's whole column was upon them. 
After doing this the troopers galloped out again, and 
left the bewildered rebels as much surprised because of 
their leaving, as they had by their unexpected coming. 
This also explains the stories told us by the flying fugi- 
tives, who had, by their silly fright, beguiled us into 
the rebel camp. 

As soon as we were thus detained, I directed all my 
attention to destroying the map in my possession, by 
tearing it in pieces in my pocket, dropping portions of 



TAKEN TO BRIDGEPORT, 89 

it, whenever opportunity offered, and chewing up much 
of it, until I finally succeeded, without detection, in dis- 
posing of the whole of it. Had this map been discov- 
ered in my possession, it would have been strong evi- 
dence against us, and it was, therefore, a great relief, 
when the last vestige of it had disappeared. 

This man's story ended all hope of our getting away, 
and we were prisoners a second time. No sooner was 
attention once directed to us than we were surrounded, 
and scores of fellows saw in our appearance something 
suspicious. We told the most plausible story we could 
invent, but it was of no use. They now searched us, 
and found our revolvers, which was evidence against us, 
but, fortunately, found nothing more calculated to 
reveal our true characters. It made but little difference, 
however, in the end, for they were in a high state of 
excitemicnt at that time, and in spite of our protesta- 
tions of innocence, we were bundled off under guard, 
put on a hand-car and run up to Bridgeport, where the 
commanding officer was stationed. 

AVe reached Bridgeport soon after dark, and there we 
were again stripped and searched. Boots, hats, coats, 
socks and every under-garment underwent the strictest 
scrutiny. They could find nothing, and were about on 
a stand as to what judgment to pass on our cases, 
when fate again turned against us by interposing a cir- 
cumstance which ended all hope in our favor. An 
excited fellow, who came and stuck his head in among 
the gaping crowd, who were staring at us, declared, in 
a loud voice, that we belonged to Andrews' spies and 
train-thieves. 

All eyes were turned on him instantly, my own 



90 "the villains we ake looking after." 

among them. Of course, he felt bound to back up the 
assertion, although I believe he lied, at least such were 
my feelings. The spirit of resentment rose up within 
me, until I could have killed him without compunction, 
if I had possessed the power, for in the next breath he 
said, " I know those fellows ! I saw them on the train !" 
The commanding oificer stared at us with a look of 
exultant surprise, and said, "I'll bet any money, by 
G — d, that these are the two men we have been look- 
ing: after so lono^. These are two of the villains that 
have not been captured." 



CHAPTEE YII. 

Strongly Guarded— General Leadbetter at Bridgei)ort— Red-Hot 
Interview with the Scoundrel — A Blustering Braggart and an 
Arrant Coward — Separate Examination of Wood and Myself — 
Taken back to Chattanooga — Parting Words with Leadbetter — 
*' The Hole " —Dungeon and Chains— Old Swims, the Jailer— A 
Horrible, Loathsome Pit, Crowded with Miserable, Helpless 
Human Beings— Loaded with Chains. 

*• Oh I how I wished for spear or sword, 
At least to die amidst the horde, 
And perish— if it must be so — 
At bay, destroying many a foe." 

E were at once taken to the guard-house, and a 
strong guard, with loaded muskets and fixed bay- 
onets, encircled us during the entire night, at 
least fifty soldiers performing that duty. AVith their 
noise, we could get but little sleep, and escape was 
wholly out of the question, although we kept a vigilant 
w^atch for such an opportunity. 

In all probability they had telegraphed to General 
Leadbetter, that night, who was at Chattanooga, for he 
w^as at Bridgeport the next morning, and our first ac- 
quaintance with that official took place while we were 
cooking our rations, some raw pork, at a fire, near the 
guard-house. AYhile thus engaged, he came up to us, 
and seemed anxious to gratify a fiendish sort of curi- 

(91) 




92 LEADBETTER S THREATS. 

osity, and satisfy himself, on actual view, that we were 
the right men. He took off our hats and carefully 
examined our complexions. He at once pronounced us 
Yankees. He said Ave had been accustomed to wear- 
ing the little, round regulation caps in the Federal 
army. Said he, " These fellows are a d — d good prize. 
The last one of them shall be hung, too." 

He told us that Andrews, the leader of the gang, was 
to be hung that day, and, probably, would get his just 
deserts before we reached Chattanooga. He talked in 
this threatening, brow-beating style, no doubt, with the 
expectation of intimidating or scaring us into making 
some admissions that could be used as evidence. When 
he found that this sort of bombast made no impression 
fin us, he changed tactics a little, and, after quite a 
pause, said, "Well, boys, whether you are the men or 
not, it was a d — d bold stroke. I suppose old Mitchell 
picked and culled over the whole Yankee army to find 
the most reckless, hardened men he could." Then he 
again said, " I'll be d — d if I don't hang the last one of 
you." 

I said to him, " Hang and be d — d ; but I will tell you 
one thing to remember. If you ever do come across one 
of Mitchell's men, and hang him, look out that sooner or 
later your own neck don't pay the penalty ; because, " 
I continued, "this hanging business will be quite com- 
mon about the time the rebellion closes up." 

He looked as though he had half a mind to cut me 
down with his sword, on the spot, but said not a word. 
He soon after walked away, and we could hear him 
giving directions to the oilicer of the guard to observe 
the greatest caution, " for," said he, " those fellows are 



SEARCHING EXAMINATION OF WOOD. 93 

hard customers, and will take advantage of the least 
opportunity offered to break away. They are afraid of 
nothing, nor will they hesitate to run any risk, no mat- 
ter how great." The officer told him that we would 
not get away alive, as he had an eye on us all the time. 

We ate our rations without further molestation, after 
which we were again placed in the guard-house, and it 
was not long until my companion, Mark Wood, was 
taken out and put through a long, searching ordeal of 
cross-questioning, until he perspired like a man in a 
July harvest. The examination was conducted in an 
open space in front of the guard-house and surrounded 
by hundreds of soldiers and eager listeners. What 
Wood told them, or how well he made his story appear, 
I do not know, but without doubt the poor fellow was 
entrapped and confused. 

My thoughts and feelings during the time while I 
was awaiting my turn to undergo their thorough cross- 
questioning, can better be imagined than described. I 
saw plainly that we were fairly in their clutches — that 
there was no use of hoping further. After all our hard- 
ships, and after getting back to within seven miles of 
General Mitchell's picket-posts, to be picked up and con- 
fronted with these spy charges, supported by some 
damning circumstances against us — enough at least to 
lead to our final detection — was enough to drive any 
one to thoughts of desperation. 

As Wood came in he whispered to me and said, "Ko 
use to deny it; they've found out by some means." I 
was at once ordered out, and now confronted by 
General Leadbetter, some idea of whose character may 
be gleaned from Parson Brownlow's Book. He was 



94 KED-IIOT INTERVIEW. 



nothino: more nor less than a contemiitible drunken 



*o 



bully, a profane, blustering braggart, and withal a most 
arrant coward. 

lie asked me if I knew anything about Andrews or 
the party that had been with him. I had determined to 
admit nothino: — to deny everything, and to avoid say- 
ing anything which might possibly conflict with what 
Wood might have said — in fact, I meant to say but 
little. When, therefore, I denied any knowledge of 
Andrews' party, he looked at me as though he would 
look clear through me, then burst out in a towering 
passion, and said : 

" Will 3^ou stand up here and tell such a d — d lie as 
that? you infernal scoundrel — you abominable Yankee 
vagabond ! ISTow speak the truth, sir ! " 

I had been looking him straight in the eye from the 
moment he began speaking to me. I now felt that 
degree of reckless desperation that I had never felt 
before, which was intensified by his stinging insult and 
overbearing manner. lie had addressed me as if I had 
been a slave or a cowardly menial. Though I was 
perfectly self-controlled, 1 felt the hot blood coursing to 
my brain, and my hair seemed to be rising on end. I 
was in a frame of mind to do anything. Thoughts of 
murder flashed through my brain. I took my eyes 
from the old rebel villain for an instant, and cast a 
hasty glance around for a club or something, with 
which I intended instantly to bram him. I called on 
his men to throw me a club — anything, with which I 
could teach their " d — d, sand-lapping, son-of-a-b — brig- 
adier, how to speak to a gentleman, and, also to give 
him a chance to practice sword-exercise at the same 



WE ARE KNOWN. 95 

time." "No more opprobrious epithet, or one of greater 
indignity can be applied to a person in the South than 
that of " sand-lapper." I did not deign to speak to 
hi77i, but addressed his men, and I heaped every oppro- 
brious epithet on his head that I could think of. He 
w^as an overbearing, mean officer, and I believe his men 
would have rejoiced, and willingly have helped me to 
something to have ended his miserable life if they had 
dared to do so. He saw that I was bent on mischief, 
for he kept his eyes on me some moments, and then 
spoke out and said : 

"Men, don't you take j^our eyes off of that man or 
he will go through the whole d — d mess of you. He's 
a hard case." 

The next time he spoke to me he had changed his 
tone very much, and addressed me as one man ordinar- 
ily should another. He took a paper from his pocket 
and read our names, "John A. Wilson and Marie 
Wood," and asked me if I knew either of them. I said 
I did not. 

He pretended to be astonished, and said, "It is a 
strange thing that you do not know them. I will tell 
you who they are. Mark Wood is in the guard-tent 
3^onder, and John A. Wilson is standing before me. 
You need not deny it any more. We have men who 
saw you on the train, and would know you any place. 
Your comrade has had to acknowledge it and so will 
you. 

" Well," I said, " you can have it as you d — d please. 
I am a prisoner, and you have the power, and I see you 
have also the disposition, to convict me, whether inno- 
cent or guilty." 



06 ON THE WAY TO CHATTANOOGA. 

I was sent back to the guard-tent ; but we did not 
stay there long. The train that was to take us to 
Chattanooga soon arriv^ed, to which we were conducted 
under a strong guard, and were soon on our way back 
to Chattanooga. The very thought of that place 
oppressed me. I dreaded to go back there. I knew it 
meant evil to us. I could have willingly jumped from 
the train, even liad I known that my life would have 
been sacrificed; but on we sped, our thoughts filled 
with the most gloomy apprehensions for the future. 

It was not long after we started, that General Lead- 
better came into the car in which Wood and I were 
seated. His bearing was much modified toward us. 
In a very gentlemanly manner he requested Wood, who 
was in tlie same seat with me, to take another seat, 
as he wished to have a rational talk with me, if I had 
no objection. I replied that I was perfectly willing to 
talk with him, and that the manner of the conversation 
would depend much on himself. lie took tlie seat 
Wood had vacated, and began talking very pleasantly. 
We had quite a long conversation in regard to various 
matters. 

During the conversation I noticed that he was 
adroitly trying to lead me into admissions that would 
have been inconsistent with my former statements, or 
that would have been damaging evidence against us. 
Eut I carefully avoided being led into any such admis- 
sions, or in making any statement that would betray 
our true charactei's. 

When the train arrived at Chattanooga, he arose and 
shook hands with us, and regretted our unfortunate 
situation — "for," said he, "whatever may be your 



CONDUCTED TO TKISON. 97 

crime, you are brav'e men, and you engaged in a job 
that but few men would care to attempt. Had you 
been a day sooner, j^ou would have succeeded." 

I perceived the drift of this, and told him in sub- 
stance, that if we had been of the raiding party, we 
might possibly feel complimented by his remarks, and 
that I hoped his sympathy for our unfortunate situa- 
tion would go so far as to cause him to see that we had 
a fair trial, and were not convicted if innocent. 

In a few moments we were marched to prison, sur- 
rounded by armed guards, and here our sorrows and 
hardships began in earnest. The guard conducted us 
to a room, where we were handcuffed and chained 
together with a large chain, each end of which was 
fastened about our necks. We were then conducted to 
another room, in the center of which was a trap-door, 
fastened down with bolts and locks. An old white- 
haired man, with a hard, withered-looking face, and a 
treble-sounding voice, was jailer. He was a hardened 
old wretch, who loved whisky and despised "Yankees," 
as he called all is'orthern people. His name was Swims. 
He moved about in a bustling, shuffling gait, as though 
he Avere making a great effort to be in a hurry. He 
drew from his pocket a large key, and getting down on 
his knees, applied it to the great rusty locks on the 
trap-door. The fastenings were soon released, and with 
great effort he lifted the heavy door on its hinges, while 
an attendant broui^'ht a lono^ ladder, which was run 
down the hole, and we were ordered to descend. 

As we stepped forward to obey the command, I 
cauo:ht a breath of the horrible stench and foul, hot 
air, which came up through that revolting hole. I 
7 



98 A HORRIBLE, LOATHSOME DUNGEON. 

involuntarily stepped back. I never had smcUed so 
loathsome and sickening a stench before, and despair- 
ingly looked around to see if there was no other alterna- 
tive. The threatening bayonets of the guard reminded 
us that there was no choice left. We sullenly crawled 
down as well as our chain would admit. Down, down 
we went into that suffocating, dark dungeon. Sepul- 
chral voices and specter-like forms admonished us that 
others had gone down before us, but it was not until 
we had reached the foot of the ladder that we found 
that the stinking, loathsome pit was crowded with mis- 
erable human beings, smothering and gasping for 
breath. 

It was with difficulty we could get a place to stand. 
As soon as we were off the ladder it was taken up and 
the trap-door shut down, when it was so dark that we 
could not see anything. After considerable crowding 
and squeezing, we found standing room. We could not 
see to tell who or what our companions in misery were, 
but soon heard familiar voices, and we had said but a 
word or so, when some one spoke out and said : 

" My God, that is Wilson and Wood ! Good Heav- 
ens ! they have got every one of us ! " 

The poor fellows crowded around us, and such a 
babel and confusion of talk it w^ould be hard to describe. 
The party had all been captured for some time, except 
ourselves, and they had believed and hoped that we had 
made good our escape. They told us that Andrews, 
our leader, was then on trial for his life, and that there 
was no doubt of his conviction and execution, ^vhile the 
prospect for the rest of us was not a whit better. They 
all seemed resigned to their fate, and were even anx- 



TO WHICH DEATH WOULD BE A RELIEF. 99 

lous for the day to come and relieve them from the 
torments of this vile dungeon. Death, they said, would 
be a welcome relief. 

This den was thirteen feet square and thirteen feet 
deep. There were two small holes in the sides, one of 
which had been nearly choked up by the earth caving 
in against it, and both were so obstructed by iron bars 
that but little air could get through — barely enough to 
keep the wretched inmates from smothering to death. 



CIIAPTEPv YIIL 

Horror upon Horrors — Torture and Torment well-nigh Unendur- 
able — Loatlisome Corn-bread and Rotten Meat — Odors Most Foul 
— Fetters, Vemiin and Darkness — Parallel with the Black Hole 
of Calcutta— A Very Hell on Earth— The Boom of Mitchell's 
Cannon — A Night of Anxiety — Sad Disappointment — Off to 
Atlanta — A Soldier's Life — A Bloodthirsty Mob Clamoring for 
our Lives — Landed in Better Quarters at Madison — Visited by a 
Union Spy — The Spy's Narrow Escai>e — Back to our Chatta- 
nooga Prison — The Heroic Lad, Jacob Parrott, Biiitally 
Whipped on the Naked Back. 

" As I lay on the damp, cold ground, 
I felt a shudder o'er me creep, 

To know that I was weak, and bound 
A captive there. I knew not why 

The blood was frozen in my veins ; 
Thou know'st I do not fear to die, 

And yet I trembled in my chains." 

^[N this loathsome dungeon every man of our entire 
party, twenty-two in all, was incarcerated, includ- 
ing Porter and Hawkins, who, it will be remem- 
bered, were left at Marietta on the morning of the raid. 
They also had been subsequently captured, and here we 
were all together. Besides our party, there were also 
twelve or fifteen other prisoners, most of them East Ten- 
nessee Union men, and one negro, who had been in there 
seven months and had five months more to stay. The 
charge against him, as I understood at the time, was 
that of trying to escape from bondage, and, when 

ClOO) 



VEEMIN BY THE MILLION. 101 

arrested, refusing to tell where lie belonged. lie was 
taken out occasionally and mercilessly whipped and 
beaten to force him to divulge. We felt much sympa- 
thy for the poor, friendless creature, who was known 
by the name of Aleck, for he not only bore his tor- 
ments without complaint, but tried in every way to 
comfort and encourage his fellow prisoners in their dis- 
tress. He ministered to our wants cheerfully, in every 
way that lay in his power, and proved himself an inval- 
uable friend and assistant. When the time of his sentence 
should expire, he was to be put up at auction and sold 
into bondao^e ao^ain. 

To aggravate our torments and make our lives more 
intolerable, we were being literally eaten up by vermin — 
lice. There were both bed-bugs and fleas, but they 
were as nothing compared with the lice which swarmed 
over our bodies, night and day, by millions. We were 
hand-cuifed and chained in pairs, so that it was impos- 
sible to strip off our clothing and temporarily rid our- 
selves of them, even if there had been sufficient light 
to have done so. We could scrape up a handful of 
sand from the floor, and carry it to the sickly ray of 
light shed in between the bars at the window, and it 
would be alive with lice. 
I have heard of the ^"'^ Black Hole" of Calcutta, 

*The Black Hole, a military dungeon in Fort William, Calcutta, India, is noted 
for being the scene of one of the most tragical events in English history. Mr. 
Holwell, one of the survivors of the horrible affair, gives the following account of it: 
" On the capture of Calcutta by Surajah Dowlah, June 20, 1755, the British garrison, 
consisting of one hundred and forty-six men, under the command of Mr. Holwell, 
were taken prisoners and locked up for the night in the common dungeon of the 
fortress, a strongly-barred room, eighteen feet square, and never intended for the 
confinement of more than two or three men at a time. There were only two 
windows, both opening toward the west, whence, under the best of circumstances, 
but little air could enter. A few moments sufficed to throw them into profuse 



102 LEADBETTER, TUE MONSTER. 

where the semi-barbarians of India suffocated a band 
of Enp^lish prisoners to death, but I cannot believe their 
sufferings much surpassed the liellish torments inflicted 
upon us by these chivalrous, high-toned aristocrats of 
Southern civilization. If old Lead better is alive yet, he 
deserves the fate of AVirz. If he is dead, and there is a 
hell and endless torture, there is little necessity for 
such an abode if he has escaped the torments of the 
damned. lie was a heartless, inhuman devil, callous to 
all instincts of humanity, deaf to the appeals of brave 
men gasping and begging for that which God made 
free to all — the breath of life. 

Many of the men had raw sores on them, caused by 
these myriads of vermin. We had no blankets to sleep 
on, and most of the men had become ragged and nearly 
naked in their night wanderings through the brush in 

perspiration, the natural consequence of which was a raging thirst. They stripped 
off their clothes to gain more room, sat down on the floor that the air might 
circulate more freely, and, when every expedient failed, sought by the bitterest 
insults to provoke the guards to fire on them. One of the soldiers stationed in the 
verandah, was offered one thousand rupees to have them removed to a larger room. 
He went away, but returned saying it was impossible. The bribe was then doubled, 
and he made a second attempt with like result; the nabob was asleep and no one 
durst wake him. By 9 o'clock several had died, and many more were delirious. A 
frantic cry for water now became general, and one of the guards, more compassion- 
ate than his fellows, caused some to be brought to the bars, where Mr. Ilohvell and 
two or three others received it in their hats, and passed it on to the men behind. 
In their impatience to secure it nearly all was spilt, and the little they drank 
seemed only to increase their thirst. Self-control was soon lost, those in remote 
parts of the room struggled to reach the window, and a fearful tuiunlt ensued, in 
which the weakest were trampled or pressed to death. They raved, fought, prayed, 
blasphemed, and many then fell exhausted on the floor, where suffjcation put an 
end to their torments. The Indian soldiers, meanwhile, crowded around the 
windows, and even brought lights that they might entertiriu themselves with the 
dreadful spectacle. The odor which filled the dungeon became more deadly every 
moment, and about 11 o'clock the prisoners began to drop off fast. At length, at G 
o'clock in the morning, Surajah Dowlah awoke, and ordered the door to be opened. 
Of the one hundred and forty-six, only twenty-three reniiined alive, and they were 
either stupefied or raving." 



A PITIABLE, HORRIBLE CONDITION. 103 



trying to escape. However, we had but little need of 
clothino^ in this suffocatino^ duno-eon, as the weather 
was getting very hot, and this, with the difficulty of 
free breathing, kept us almost in a constant state of 
perspiration. The fetid air and the stifling heat also 
caused us to be tormented ^vitli great thirst. AYe could 
not all find sleeping room at one time — that is, to lie 
down and sleep. When the cool part of the night 
came, and we were overcome with weariness, some 
would recline against the walls, while others would sit 
up and lean against their comrade next to them, and 
still others, more fortunate than the rest, would find 
a spot large enough to curl up and lie down, only to be 
trodden on, perhaps, by some poor fellows groping 
about in the dark for "water to quench their thirst. 
Sometimes these unintentional accidents would cause 
sharp contentions in the night, for our miserable con- 
dition did not render our tempers the sweetest in the 
world. 

My wrists had become so swollen above and below 
the iron bands that the iron had sunk into the 
flesh almost out of sight. In this painful condition, I 
had a comrade take my handkerchief and tie my 
elbows as closely together as possible, and day after day 
would I rest my bound arms, first over one shoulder 
and then over the other. This relieved the pain and 
swelling some, although it made me almost helpless, 
and it did seem as though the lice would devour me 
alive, swarming, as they did, over every portion of my 
body. Our condition was most pitiable — it was simply 
horrible. 

But it was useless to complain. Our sufferings were 



iir^rr^ DTT7r,ro " 



lOi "old swims. 

regarded by the officers with unfeeling, heartless indif- 
ference, even to insult. My defiant language to Lead- 
better and the Bridgeport officers had, I suppose, made 
me the object of the special hatred of Leadbetter, Avho, 
I think, purposely put this needless infliction on me by 
instruction to the officer in charge. 

Each morning, about nine o'clock usually, old Swims, 
tiie jailer, would raise the trap and call out, "men, 
here's your feed," which he low^ered to us in a bucket 
attached to a rope. In the same manner our scanty 
supply of water was lowered to us. Our "feed" was 
a meager supply of corn-bread and half -rot ten boiled 
bacon. This was given us twice a day. It required a 
pretty good stomach and appetite to swallow it, for not 
unfrequently we would find dead maggots in the stink- 
ing, unsavory mess. AYe w^ere generally hungry 
enough, however, to eat anything we could get, good 
or bad. In the matter of rations, I suppose we fared 
no worse than Federal prisoners at Andersonville and 
other places, perhaps not as bad, yet we found it barely 
sufficient to sustain life. 

Some of our party had some Confederate money left, 
and occasionally, as long as it lasted, they would hire 
old Swims to buy bread for us. The old rascal would 
sometimes take the money, and, after waiting a day or 
so, and hearing nothing of it, we would ask him about 
it, Avhen he would tell us he had lost it. The probable 
truth Avas that he had used it to buy a few drams with. 
But we were at his mercy, and had to treat him with 
great civility and take his statements for facts, whether 
we believed them or not. No person, who has not 
been a prisoner, can form any correct conception of our 



COMilOTION IN CHATTANOOGA. 105 

utter degradation and suffering, while sliut up in this 
vile place. 

Curious visitors, who came to look down the trap- 
hole at us, spared no pains to show their contempt tor 
" Old Abe's abolition dogs," as thej called us. They 
regarded us as a crowd of reckless desperadoes, sent out 
on a mission of destruction and carnage. Occasionally 
some Avord\^ disputes and arguments would spring up, 
for some of our crowd were pretty " tonguey," and gen- 
erally gave as good as they received, and could call as 
hard names as their rebel visitors could. Seldom was 
the trap opened that there were not curious visitors, 
who would peer down, and generally they had somc- 
thing: to say to us. We remained in this place of tor- 
ment several Aveeks after AYood and I arrived ; I do not 
know exactly how long, but it did seem to us, from all 
indications, that we were to be kept there until death 
relieved us. 

At length, one afternoon, there was a great commo- 
tion and running to and fro, and galloping of horses 
outside, and very soon the trap w^as opened and the 
ladder thrust down, when we were ordered to crawl 
out, which command, it is needless to say, we obeyed 
as hurriedly as our helpless condition would allow. We 
were headed for the depot, where, several weeks before, 
we had voluntarily assembled, a free, hopeful and unfet- 
tered band, to take a ride on that same railroad. 

Some of the poor fellows were so weak, and had been 
so long deprived of the free use of their limbs, that they 
could scarcely walk. We were all so blinded by the 
light that it was comical to see our bedazed, staggering 
efforts to walk. We must have appeared like a crowd 



106 BOOM OF Mitchell's cannon. 

of tipsy men, which furnished sport for the rebel guards, 
and gave them an excuse to abuse us roundly and 
threaten us with their bayonets. After we had been 
out awhile, our eyes became partially accustomed to 
the strong light, and we got along better. 

"We now learned what was "up." The Federal 
forces had appeared on the hills across the river, oppo- 
site the town, and already the boom of Mitchell's can- 
non could be heard reverberating down the river and 
among the hills. All was confusion and chaos. The 
conductor on the train on which we were to go, had 
evidently taken fright ; at any rate, he had pulled out 
ahead of time, and was already beyond the reach of 
Mitchell's guns. We were only too glad that the train 
had left, though we made no outward show of our feel- 
ings. We hoped that General Mitchell would push 
across the river and capture the town and thus re- 
lease us. 

We Avere returned to the dungeon for the night. 
That was a night of the greatest anxiety to us, as it 
was to the rebels of the city. Mitchell could easily have 
captured the place, had he only known its weakness. 
The rebels had but a small force, and were prepared to 
leave on short notice. We could hear the Federal shells 
burstino: promiscuously about, and vre were certain^ 
that early next morning we should hear the Federal 
skirmish line at work in the suburbs of the town. 
What joyful music that would have been to our ears. 

But, alas, our great expectations were disappointed. 
The morning came, but no clash of arms or sound of 
battle greeted our ears. Bright and early we were 
ao*ain taken to the depot, and this time the train was 



ALTERNATE HOPE AND DESPAIU. lOT 

there. "We vainly cast wishful ejes in the direction of 
the far bank of the river, but no rescuing friends were 
in sight, and our hopes sunk as low as our expectations 
had been high on the previous night. 

Such is the life of a soldier — ever subject to the 
caprices of fickle fortune — to-day rejoicing, to-morrow 
sorrowing — to-day feasting, to-morrow starving — to-day 
shouting paeans of victory with his rejoicing comrades — 
to-morrow on the gallows, in the prison, or filling a 
soldier's grave. And such is the rapidity with which 
these extremes of fortune follow in time of war, that 
one almost grows bewildered in his anxiety to keep 
pace with them. 

As the train rolled on, "vve soon came to the scene of 
our former fearful ride. I could look from the cars and 
see the same brush where Mark and I so successfully 
secreted ourselves, and when I thought of the long, 
hard, fruitless struggle we had to escape, and how 
nearly we had reached our friends and safety, and tlien 
realized our present condition — in misery and chains, 
like felons, with the gallows' doom pending over us, 
my heart and hope almost sunk within me. 

But man is a singular compound after all. ISTo 
despair is so black but that hope will quickly alternate, 
if we allow the mind free scope. A merciful God has 
so created us. lie has implanted large hope in the 
human breast. Man hopes, in this uncertain life, to 
the last, and when bereft of all hope with which lie 
clings to this world, he still hopes for a blessed Immor- 
tality beyond. I have seen this forcibly illustrated 
with one of my beloved comrades — a professed disbe- 
liever, yet a brave man — standing on the brink of the 



108 ANXIETY TO SEE A YANKEE. 

dark shore of eternity, and of whom I shall speak 
hereafter in m}^ narrative. Poor fellow! though he 
had often denied it, when his last hour had come — • 
when ail worldly hope was gone — he, too, had hope of 
Immortality. 

As we went whirling past bridges and parts of the 
road where we had, over a month before, wrought so 
much mischief, many were the quiet, jocular remarks 
made by some of our party. It seemed to have been 
known in advance, that the Yankee train-thieves and 
spies were going through to Atlanta. At any rate, at 
nearly every town there would be a crowd assembled 
to peer in on us through the windows. Northern peo- 
ple can scarcely believe how much curiosity the South- 
ern people had to see a Yankee, more especially a 
Yanlvce soldier. The old soldiers w^ill all remember 
this well. Some of the Southerners actually seemed to 
feel a superstitious belief about the Yankees. They 
imao-ined them to be some dreadful oo^res or incarnate 
devils, who would steal a '^nigger" as quick as a hawk 
Avould a chicken — who would burn houses, ravish 
women and steal gold watches, but wouldn't fight. 

The fact of our coming into their midst and stealing 
a train had rather enhanced this belief, and we were, 
from appearances, regarded by these people as the very 
incarnation of Yankee vandalism. Soldiers, citizens 
and women, a,ll, seemed possessed of this itching curi- 
osity to see a veritable Yankee ; but I have no doubt 
that many of them saw more Yankees than they cared 
to before the end of the Eebellion. What appeared 
to me cowardly and out of place on the part of soldiers 
and men in citizen's dress, was their habit of plying us 



SWARMING ABOUT THE TRAIN. 100 

with insulting epithets and tauntingly reminding us 
that our necks were sure of the halter. AVe answered 
them, not surer than theirs — that General Mitchell had 
a bad crowd with him, and that they would get heart- 
ily sick of rope performances before the game was 
ended. 

Groups of ladies would come to the windows and 
gaze at us with absolute trembling, as if we were fero- 
cious w41d beasts. Some of these would express com- 
passion for our having to be loaded with heavy chains 
while there was a strong military guard over us at the 
same time. We could overhear some of them talking. 
One would say " Why, some of them are smart, civil- 
looking fellows. It is a shame to treat them so. What 
if old Mitchell should get some of our men ? " As a 
general thing, most of our crowd said but little, except 
when asked civil questions, which we as civilly 
answered. At Big Shanty, where we stole the train, 
there was a big crowd — more soldiers than citizens. 
They were pretty fierce, and would have done us vio- 
lence but for the guards. 

Our destination seemed to bo Atlanta, or some place 
b33^ond, Vv^here jail room and a place of safety could be 
found. When we arrived at Atlanta the train stopped 
for some time, and the longer we were there the larger 
the crowd became. They swarmed in hundreds about 
the car Ave were in, to get a glimpse of us. This, it 
will be remembered, was in 1862, and before Sherman 
and his bummers had made the citizens of Atlanta so 
familiar with the appearance of Federal soldiers. The 
company of rebel guards, who had us in charge, 
were deployed about the car to keep the crowd back as 



110 CLAM0KI2NG FOK OVR LIVES. 

much as possible. Part of th3 great throng exhibited a 
disposition to mob the prisoners, and were loud and 
demonstrative in their threats. The poor, cowardly 
sand-lappers and clay-eaters finally got so violent and 
uncontrollable, that the city provost-guards had to be 
brought to the assistance of the train-guards, to keep 
the howling mob from taking us from the cars and 
hanging us to the lamp posts. Their insulting screeches 
and clamor for vengeance could be heard from all sides. 
How I should like to have seen the old Twenty-First 
Regiment, under the command of the intrepid Colonel 
Arnold McMahan, turned loose by companies on that 
blood-thirsty, cowardly mob, who would insult and do 
violence to a few half-starved men loaded down with 
chains and shackles. This crudely-told incident is not 
a very strong support to the theory of the chivalrous 
valor and honor once so vauntingly claimed by the 
slaveholding aristocracy of the South. 

I was very much relieved when the whistle sounded, 
and the train pulled out for Madison, Georgia, for I 
have no doubt that had we been detained fifteen minutes 
loncrer, we would have been dra2:2:ed from the cars and 
hung, or cut to pieces, or beaten to death in the streets, 
so craz3^ and excited had these infuriated demons 
become. I was glad to leave them — that I am certain of. 

Next morning we reached Madison, which was a 
neat, prettily-situated town, although the effects of war 
were visible in the deserted appearance of the streets, 
where no men were to be seen, except a few soldiers on 
leave of absence, or cripples, and occasionally an old 
man. On our march to the jail, groups of women and 
children thronged the sidewalks to stare at us. 



A FEDEKAL SPY. Ill 

We found tl>e jail here a paradise, compared with 
our late den at Chattanooga. We had plenty of room, 
light, and, best of all, we had plenty of fresh air to 
breathe, and a fair supply of very tolerable rations. 
We w^ould have been more comfortable if our chains 
and irons had been taken off, but, as it was, w^e 
recruited rapidly, and soon felt like men again, all of 
wdiich blessings we appreciated, and were as devoutly 
thankful for as ever mortal men could be. 

While we were here, many visitors came to see us. 
Among these, one day, an intelligent man came in, 
dressed in a neat Confederate uniform, and w^hom I 
noticed speaking hurriedly in a low tone of voice to 
Andrews. We did not suspect anything at the time, 
and from the decidedly rebel views he expressed to us, 
Ave took the officer for a rabid secesh, but after he had 
been gone some little time, Andrews privately commu- 
nicated to us the fact that he w^as acquainted with the 
man, and the additional fact, surprising to us, that he 
was none other than a Federal spy, in the service of the 
United States. We trembled at the audacious daring 
of the fellow, and were wondering whether it could be 
possible that he was in fact, as Andrews said, a Union 
man running his neck into the v^ery halter. We were 
inclined to doubt the correctness of the story, until a 
little later, the sergeant of the guard, who came in to 
bring our supper, told us that a remarkable thing had 
happened that afternoon. 

The sergeant said the commandant of tlie town had 
learned, by some means, that one of Lincoln's spies had 
been among the visitors at the prison during the after- 
noon, and had at once put officers on the hunt for him 



112 THE spy's escape. 

to cause his arrest. The spy was found at the depot, 
just as the cars were coming in. He became very in- 
dignant because of his arrest and told them, with great 
emphasis, that he had papers in his pocket that would 
prove his character anywhere. The officer of the guard 
was taken aback somewhat at this information, and 
released his hold on the stranger, but asked him to pro- 
duce the papers. The spy thereupon thrust his hand 
in his pocket and began fumbling about, as though try- 
ing to find them. By this time the train had started, 
and the hind coach was just passing where they stood 
at a pretty good rate of speed, when he sprang from 
the guard like a tiger and got aboard the train. There 
was no telegraph office at the station and he made good 
his escape. 

This caused the rebel commandant to forbid any 
more visiting ; but we felt consolation in the hope that 
the spy would report our condition to the United States 
authorities and some efforts would be made to secure 
our release. Whether tiie spy ever reached the Union 
lines I do not know. 

After a stay of several days at the Madison jail, an 
order came one dav for our immediate return to Chat- 
tanooga, and the good time we were having was sud • 
denly brought to a close. General Mitchell, though he 
had badly frightened the citizens and rebel soldiers, had 
not taken the town. We were hurried back and incar- 
cerated in the same old prison we had been in before. 
Two circumstances, however, after our return, did 
much to relieve the misery of this prison The captain 
of the guard allowed a portion of our party to remain 
in the room above the i)it, which was our first quarters. 



IN CHATTANOOGA PRISON AGAIN. 113 

This was a great relief, at least to some of us, and made 
more room for the others below. We had, also, with 
the assistance of a case-knife, which one of our men 
had secured, contrived imjDlements by which we could 
unlock our shackles, and we Avere thus enabled to 
relieve ourselves of this discomfort, except at times 
when we expected the jailer in, when we would replace 
them, as otherwise, had they found out what was going 
on, they would have brought in a blacksmith and put 
them on to stay^ besides cramming us all down into the 
"hole" again. 

They must have regarded us as very desperate, dan- 
gerous men, from the extraordinary precautions they 
took. Even when we were all down in the hole, where 
there was no chance to escape, they would always bring 
a strong guard into the room before they would lift the 
trap door, and now that Ave Avere in the upper room, a 
guard Avas kept on the outside of the fence around the 
prison, also one on the stairs Avhich led to the second 
story, and Avhen the jailer entered from his room in 
front of ours, a strong guard, Avith fixed bayonets, ready 
for instant use, AA^as at his back. This extra precaution 
on their part onl}^ disclosed the fact that they had some 
serious reasons, serious to us at least, for guarding us 
so closely, and the further fact that they Avere afraid of 
us, CA^en Avith our chains on, all of Avhich did not in the 
least deter us, hoAVCA^er, from laying plans to escape. 
To quiet us and as if to allay our apprehensions, and 
thus prevent any efforts on our part to regain our lib- 
erty, our guards talked encouragingly about our being 
exchanged like other prisoners. 

Unfortunately, some of our men were beguiled by 



114 EFFOKTS TO ENTKAP US. 

this seductive talk, and by it, a premeditated effort to 
escape, which at least promised success, was thwarted. 
To those of us who looked the matter squarely in the 
face, there was, in the verv nature of the rebels' course 
of treatment of our party, something that boded evil 
and forbade the thought or hope of an exchange, as in 
the case of ordinary prisoners of war. First, we were 
not sent into camp with other Union prisoners they 
held. Again, we discovered when we were all together 
and compared notes, that every means had been resorted 
to by our incensed captors to extort and obtain admis- 
sions and confessions from us, which could be used as 
evidence on which to support charges for our convic- 
tion. Of course, they must put us through the form, 
at least, of a trial and sustain their charges by some 
kind of testimony, by which our execution would have 
the appearance of justification under the rules of civ- 
ilized warfare, otherwise the Federals would be justified 
before the world, in swift and terrible retaliation. 

The rebels had shown an especial desire to find out 
who was the leader of our band, and also the engineer — 
the man who ran the locomotive to death in our 
great race. Those two men they seemed to regard as 
the head and front of the offense — the men w^hose lives 
were first to be sacrificed on the altar of rebel vengeance. 
But, I am proud to be able to say, that not a man of 
that faithful band was base enough to betray his com- 
rades, although poor Jacob Parrott, of the Thirty-Third 
Ohio, the youngest of the party, and who had a boy- 
ish appearance, was stripped naked by the inhuman 
devils who captured him near Einggold the same day 
we left the engine, and four men held him stretched 



BRUTAL WHIPPING OF JACOB PAHROTT. 115 

hand and foot on a large rock, while others held revol- 
vers to his head, threatening him with instant death if 
he made the least effort at resistance. Having thus 
placed him, a rebel lieutenant scored and gashed his 
naked back with a heavy raw-hide to make him confess, 
and more especially to tell the names of the leader and 
engineer. Thrice was he released and asked to confess, 
and thrice put to the torture because he refused, until 
his inhuman captors had sickened and tired of the 
inhuTiKin spectacle before them, for, although they had 
whipped him until his back Avas one mass of bloody 
welts, and bruised, quivering, lacerated flesh, still did 
the heroic lad refuse to open his lips and disclose a 
word that might betray his comrades. He suffered 
untold agonies from this merciless lashing. His back 
became a mass of sores, and with the hard floor to lie 
on, and no covering, it was no wonder that his affliction 
nearly cost him his life. This undaunted hero is living 
at Kenton, Ohio, and still carries the scars of that 
terrible deed. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Planning to Escape — Lured by False Hopes — Night Fixed upon 
for the Attempt — Twelve of the Train-Thieves Sent to Knox- 
vill e for Trial — Escape Postponed — Andrews' Death-Warrant 
— A Solemn Occasion — Preparations to Break Jail — Andrews, 
the Spy, and John Wollam Escape — The Guards Aroused — 
The Pursuit — Andrews' Wanderings and Terrible Sufferings 
— Three Days Almost Naked — Recaptured on an Island in 
the River — Bruised, Bleeding and Torn, He is Brought Back 
to the Prison More Dead than Alive. 

"Fly, Fleance, flyl tliou ma3^•5t escape." 

iiHIS course of the rebel authorities towards our 
band had a significance — a meaning, which to me, 
and, in fact, to most of us, was not pleasant to 
think of. It forbade the thought — yea, the possibility — 
of our being exchanged. Andrews, our leader, with a 
noble magnanimity and the courage of a lion, had 
admitted to them that he was the leader of the party, 
and, as before noted, had been out and had a trial, or 
what purported to be such, before a court-martial, the 
findings and sentence of which had not yet been made 
known, and he had been returned to the prison with us 
to await the result. 

Meantime we had carefully canvassed our chances of 
escape. There were two plans, and only two, in which 
the chances of success looked fairly reasonable, and 
even in these the o Ids were as five to one against us. 
Still, they offered a possibility, and, to men in our des- 
perate situation, no risk was too great. 

(116) 



PLANS FOR ESCAPE. 117 

One of these plans was that we should all have our 
irons off in the evening when the jailer and guards came 
up to bring our supper, and as soon as the door was 
opened, make a grand rush on the leveled bayonets, dis- 
arm the guards, rush down on the guards below, and 
disarm them ; then, taking the arms thus secured, we 
could have marched in a solid body to the ferry-boat, 
which lay on our side of the river, cross over, destroy 
the boat or disable her, and escape to the mountains, 
where no ordinary squad of mounted troopers could 
have captured us. 

The other plan, proposed by Andrews, the most 
feasible, and the one finally agreed upon, wq^, that one 
of our number should, as we came in from our breath- 
ing spell in the yard — which, by order of Colonel Clai- 
borne, Provost Marshal, we had been allowed part of 
the time since our return to this prison, and for which, 
and other acts of humanit}^, he was removed from his 
position by Leadbetter — conceal himself under the 
jailer's bed, in the room in front of us, and then, after 
everything was quiet at night, steal out, noiselessly un- 
lock the door, after which we could all come out, go 
stealthily down stairs in a body, surprise and disarm 
the guard, and then proceed to the boat as in the other 
plan. 

All were anxious, if I remember rightly, except two, 
Marion Eoss and George D. Wilson, the latter of Cin- 
cinnati, who thought the proposed attempt premature. 
They relied on the talk of the officers in charge of us, 
that we would be exchanged — a reliance, based on a 
sandy foundation, as will be seen from a coincidence, 
which will be mentioned further along in my account, 



118 MY OWN OPINION. 

and which recalls the names of these two comrades. 
But there were some flying reports and rumors current 
that did, for a little time, cause a rainbow of hope to 
appear in our cheerless, cloudy horizon. These and the 
opposition, more especially of Wilson, who was a ready 
talker, well educated, full of experience, fertile and 
ingenious in resources, a close reasoner, and had much 
influence with us, temporarily lulled the clamor for 
bouncing the guards and trying to escape. Yet, 
although I was in the minority, I did not feel, nor do 
I now feel satisfied that the attempt was not both 
justifiable and feasible. I would not, however, be under- 
stood as reflecting on the judgment of any of my com- 
rades, many of whom have gone beyond the reach of 
voice or sight of man. We were all trying to do for 
the best, though we differed in judgment. Yet, I have 
learned by experience that when a fellow is in a tight 
place, especially where his life and liberty are at stake, 
prompt, decisive, fearless action wins oftener than any 
other. The very audaciousness and boldness of the act 
sometimes confuses and paralyzes the enemy beyond 
successful effort at resistance. I have no doubt that 
some of our lives would have paid the penalty of our 
attempt at escape, and not one of us might have suc- 
ceeded in gaining our liberty, yet, if all of us could 
have foreseen the final outcome, we could scarcely have 
made the matter worse by a bold attempt to get out, 
even if it did cost life. 

Finally, after weary days of vain hope to hear some- 
thing favorable, we set a night for a determined strike for 
liberty. But it so happened that on the very day of 
our proposed night escape, an order came for twelve of 



Andrews' death-warrant. 119 

our number to be sent to Ivnoxville. The order did 
not designate by name those who were to go. It merely 
said twelve of us. The officer handed the order to 
George D. AYilson, who happened to be down in the 
yard, where he was allowed, on accout of his being sick 
that day with cholera-morbus or some ailment of the 
kind, and asked him to fill in the names. Wilson 
selected all of his own regimental friends (the Second 
Ohio) first, and afterwards some of his favorite com- 
rades from other regiments, as he still clung to the 
exchange delusion, and su})posed he was doing his 
friends thus selected a favor. I Avas not of the number 
sent away, but this order, taking away twelve of our 
party, upset our arrangements for an escape for the' 
time being. After shaking hands with our departing 
comrades, we were compelled to change our calcula- 
tions, although we did not abandon the fixed purpose 
of getting our liberty in some way. 

One day, some time after this, as we were sitting 
quietly in our prison, discussing means of escape, an 
event occurred which hurried matters to a final decis- 
ion. An officer came in — a stranger to us. After 
looking at us for a short time, he took from his pocket 
a paper and handed it to Andrews, then turned and 
went out without saying a word. Andrews unfolded 
the paper, glanced at it a moment, and turned away, as 
if to retire to himself. Poor, ill-fated man ! I shall 
never forget the expression of his countenance as we all 
fixed our earnest inquiring gaze on him. Not a word 
was spoken — not a man moved. It was still as death 
at the hour of midnight. As we exchanged hasty 
glances with each other, every man seemed to know 



120 OVU BRAVE, MANLY LEADER. 

intuitively tlie dreadful import of that paper — that it 
was none other than Andrews' death-warrant. No one 
ventured to break the dreadful silence, but Andrews 
passed the paper to us. He was perfectly calm, with 
no trembling or perceptible emotion, but as we looked 
upon the paper and read the words, " and then and there 
he hanged until he is dead I dead ! dead I " there was 
not a man of us who did not tremble and show signs 
of keenest anguish. There was not a man of us who 
would not have fought to the death for our brave, gen- 
erous, manly leader. He had, by his noble manhood, 
bravery and kindness, endeared himself to all. His un- 
selfish regard for every one of the party, his cheerful, 
quiet, encouraging manner under the most trying 
ordeals, had caused us to regard him with the greatest 
confidence and love. 

The time fixed in the sentence for his execution gave 
him just one week longer to live and in which to pre- 
pare for death. But we had no idea of using all this 
precious time in preparing Andrews for death. It was 
a solemn occasion with us, and all fulh^ realized the 
awful reality that stared us in the face. This did not 
mean simply the execution of our noble leader. It was 
\ forerunner of the fate that awaited' every man of us. 

We now set to work with all the quickened energies 
of desperate men, bent on escaping or dj^ing in the 
attempt. Our plan was soon formed. Our old case- 
knife was called into requisition. The building was of 
brick, lined with heavy plank. Three men stood on 
the floor together and the fourth, with the case-knife, 
made into a saw, stood on their shoulders, and was 
thus enabled to reach the plank ceiling overhead, into 



PEEPARATIOXS FOR ESCAPE. 121 

which by patience and perseverance we succeeded in 
sawing a square hole large enough to admit a man's 
body. We bent ourselves to the task before us both 
night and day, with a watchman at every window to 
guard against the discovery of our operations. The 
noise made by our case-knife saw was effectually 
drowned by stamping, loud talking, yelling, singing, or 
anything to keep up a din, and our singers and noise- 
makers were about as weary Avith the monotony of their 
efforts as the saw-shovers. 

When two of the planks were so nearly cut out that 
they could be speedily finished, we filled up the cut so 
that it could not be noticed easily, and then the fellows 
below in the " hole," Andrews among them, in the same 
manner, sawed out notches in the plank which held the 
bolts of the trap-door. This was discouragingly slow 
work. The knife-blade would get hot and bend up, 
and the man who worked it would soon get a tired, 
blistered hand ; but a fresh relay was kept ready, and 
when the hand of one became too lame to run the saw, 
he would take his place among the choir of noise-makers, 
while a fresh man Avould take the knife. 

Old Swims, the jailer, afterwards said he might have 
known there was some devilment up, the way the d — d 
Yankees were singing hymns. Singing, however, was 
a very common pastime with us in the evening, although 
our best vocalists had gone to Knoxville. Still, although 
it seems almost like a dream at this distant day, I think 
we did sing a little longer and louder, on the nights 
referred to by old Swims, just for the little saw's sake. 
While this work was going on, others had twisted old 
blankets and pieces of carpet into ropes, with which to 



122 ESCAPE OF ANDREWS AND WOLLAM. 

^et the men out of the " hole,- ' and by which to descend 
on the outside. 

When everything was in readiness, Andrews, who 
was to go first, went up in the loft. The work of 
making a hole out through the brick wall under the 
roof, was a much more difficult job than we had 
expected, and proved to be slow work with our case- 
knife. It had to be done, too, without noise. We at 
last succeeded in getting out brick enough to allow a 
man to pass out, just as the grey streaks of dawn began 
to show in the east. It was nearly daylight. If I 
remember correctly, each man had his boots or shoes 
off, so that we could avoid making noise. The blanket 
rope, one end tied to the rafter, was noiselessly let down 
the outside wall. We could see the dim, gray form of 
the sentry, and hear his tread as he paced back and 
forth. It was an anxious moment of suspense, w^hen 
at last, in a whisper, w^ord was passed from one to the 
other in the dark prison, that all was ready. 

Andrews crept out and swung down, but in some 
manner a loose brick or piece of mortar fell to the 
ground and attracted the notice of the sentry and almost 
instantly we heard the report of a gun. John WoUam, 
who was next behind Andrews, paid no heed to the 
shot, but lunged out head over heels. Bang! bang! 
went the muskets and there was loud shouting — 

^' Corporal of the guard ! Post number — ! Cap- 
tain — Captain of the guard ! Halt ! Halt ! " 

Bang ! haug ! bang ! until the shots were as thick as 
on a skirmish line in a cavalry fight. 

The man (Robert Buffum, I thiok), who was foUow- 
incr Wollam through the hole, halted between two 



FAINT RAY OF HOPE. 



123 



opinions, whether he had better jump d)wn while a 
rebel sentry stood beneath holding a cocked gun with 
fixed bayonet on him, or crawl back into the old prison 
cock-loft and bear the ills he was certain of. He 
crawled back and told us that it was " all up with us.'' 
We were all crowded in the loft, waiting for our turn 
to go out and listening to the racket on the outside. 
Within a very few moments, almost no time at all, the 
yard was filled with troops, and by their loud, excited 
talk we learned, to our unspeakable joy, of the escape 
of Andrews and Wollam. 

The rebels, of course, did not at that moment know 
who or how many of their prisoners were out, but we 
in the loft already knew that the excited sentries had 
fired wildly. At all events, neither Andrews nor Wol- 
lam were anywhere to be seen, dead or alive. While 
we felt the keenest disappointment at our failure to get 
out, yet we felt a thousand times repaid for our effort that 
even Andrews had escaped. A heavy load had been 
lifted from our minds. We took new hope. We knew 
that Andrews would put forth superhuman efforts to 
gain the Federal lines, and if he succeeded, we felt 
certain that Chattanooga would, in all human proba- 
bility, get a visit very shortly from General Mitchell. 
We thought if either of the escaped men reached the 
lines and told our old comrades of our desperate situa- 
tion, that they would at once demand to be led to our 
rescue. These were some of the faint rays of hope 
that gleamed in upon our anxious minds, and in some 
degree took away the canker of disappointment, some- 
what, perhaps, on the same philosophy that says, " A 
drowning man will catch at a straw," for, indeed, we 



124 OUK SOLICITUDE AND ANXIETY. 

were basing our hopes on a very slender thread, as the 
sequel will show. 

The musket firing and the news of the jail-break and 
escape of prisoners spread through camp and town like 
the wind, and soon the whole population was in a fever 
of excitement, and all the available man-hunting force, 
dogs included, joined in the pursuit. 

It is hardly necessary for me to tell the reader that 
those of us who had failed to make good our escape, 
were now put down in the hole, loaded with heavy 
irons, and treated with the greatest rigor and severity. 
This would follow, as a matter of course. This we 
expected, and were not disappointed. However, we 
cared nothing for our chains, or the rigor of our treat- 
ment, in our great solicitude for the success of Andrews 
and Wollam. Our anxiety for their safety and success- 
ful flight knew no bounds. Hour after hour we passed 
in sleepless uncertainty and anxious waiting, to catch 
the first tidings from their pursuers, who were return- 
in o- from the hunt, and we were overjoyed when we 
heard that the fugitives had baffled all the skill of both 
men and dogs. After two days had ])assed, and still 
they had not been caught, we began to feel confident. 
But our rejoicing was of short duration. 

As was afterwards learned from Andrews himself, 
he was fired at by the guard as he scaled the fence out- 
side the prison. But he halted not an instant, and ran 
rapidly to the river, disrobing himself as he ran. He 
at once plunged into the Tennessee, and swam for the 
opposite side. Before he reached the shore, however, 
the swift current bore him downward, and he became 
entanMed in some driftwood, by which he lost all of 



Andrews' desperate flight. 125 

his clothing except his coat, and, possibly, his shirt. 
After reaching the north side of the river he climbed 
into a tree, where he remained during the entire day, 
and from which position he was enabled to see his pur- 
suers, and to witness their desperate efforts to find him. 

AYhen the friendly shades of night again covered the 
earth, he cautiously descended from his refuge, and 
continued his flight in an almost naked and famishing 
condition. ISTow, he tore out the arms of his coat, and 
with these encased his legs as much as he could, so as 
to afford them some protection against the brush and 
rocks of that mountainous region. Early in the morn- 
ing, as he was going across an open field to another 
tree, for the purpose of shelter during the day, unfortu- 
nately, he was discovered, and at once pursued. He 
dashed forward with the speed of a frightened deer, on, 
on through the woods, and again to the river, into 
which he plunged and headed for an island, where he 
S3creted himself among a huge pile of driftwood at the 
upper end. 

Some time during the course of the day, a party of 
searchers, with their blood-hounds, made their appear- 
ance, at the sight of which Andrews left his retreat, 
and made a partial circuit of the island, by Avading in 
the water surrounding it, so as to throw the hounds off 
his track. After doubling the lower end of the island 
in this manner, he took refuge in a dense thicket, and 
again ascended a tree, whose heavy foliage seemed to 
be an effectual protection from the sight of his^ relent- 
less pursuers, for, after a long search, they abandoned 
further pursuit and returned to the main land. 

Two lads, however, who had come with the party, 



126 ANDJIEWS CAPTUrwED. 

remained behind. In their wanderings on the island, 
by the merest accident in the world, one of them spied 
Andrews through an opening in the dense foliage, and 
at once gave the alarm, when his pursuers returned, and 
Andrews, seeing that further concealment was at an 
end, quickly descended, ran to the opposite side of the 
island, secured a log, and boldly launched into the 
stream, to make an effort to reach the opposite bank, 
and thus elude his pursuers. Before he reached the 
shore, however, he was intercepted by another party in 
a boat, and was thus completely hemmed in, when he 
abandoned all further effort to escape and surrendered. 

At the prison, we were first startled by a rumor that 
Andrews had been taken, but were disposed to give 
little credence to it, probably because we did not desire 
to believe it. But, alas ! the rumor was only too true, 
for soon after a strong guard of soldiers, having in 
charge a prisoner, followed by a rabble of citizens, 
approached the prison. It was Andrews! Oh, how 
our hearts and hopes sank down within us beyond the 
power of expression ! 

Header, did you ever lose a near and dear friend, and 
feel that sudden, crushing bereavement, as if all the 
Avorld had forsaken you, and that a load of sorrow 
was bearing you down without a helping hand to save 
or aid you ? I have seen those dear to me by ties of 
kindred called away never to return. I have seen 
comrades die on the field, and without warning suffi- 
cient to speak a parting fa?'ewell. I have seen a com- 
rade, endeared to me by long association and friend- 
ship amid dangers, chained to me and perishing slowly 
day by day — his proud spirit broken by disease and 



A WRETCHED, PITIABLE OBJECT. 12T 

hunger, until fever's fitful delirium robbed him of the 
sense of pain. All of this have I seen and felt, yet God, 
in His inscrutable ways and infinite mercy, never laid 
upon me the heavy,- chastening hand of sorrow and 
anguish that I felt when I beheld the brutal guards 
bringing in poor, ill-fated Andrews, bound hand and 
foot in heavy chains. I could have prayed that death 
had spared me those painful moments, the most harrow- 
ing of my life. 

He Avas the most wretched, pitiable human being I 
ever saw — a sight which horrified us all, and even drew 
words of compassion from some of the prison-guards. 
His own brother would scarcely have been able to recog- 
nize him. It did not seem possible that the short space 
of three or four days could have wrought a change so 
startling. As he lay there chained to the fioor, naked, 
bloody, bruised and speechless, he seemed more dead 
than alive. He had not eaten a morsel since he left 
us — during which time he had made the most desperate 
struggle for liberty and life. He had swam about 
seven miles in the river in his efforts to keep free of the 
dogs. His feet were literally torn to shreds by running 
over the sharp stones and through the brush. Toward 
the last he left blood at every step. He had torn up 
his coat, all the garment left him, and tied the pieces 
on his feet, but the protection helped the matter but 
little. His back and shoulders were sun-blistered almost 
to the bone, and so completely exhausted and used up 
was he, that he could barely move his limbs after he 
was brought in. His face was pale, haggard and emaci- 
ated. His eyes, which were sunken, gave forth a wild, 
despairing, unnatural light. 



128 KESIGNED TO HIS FATE. 

"When we were left alone to ourselves, we drew 
around the miserable man and, after he had somewhat 
revived, he told us in that low, calm tone of voice, in 
which he always spoke and which seldom failed to im- 
press the listener favorably toward the m.an, the whole 
story of his unfortunate attempt to escape. lie told us 
he had but little time to live, and that now, after hav- 
ing made every effort to save his life and to rescue us, 
and failed, he felt reconciled and resigned to his fate. 
He said he was incapable of doing anything more to 
help himself, and only regretted that his death could 
not in some way be instrumental in saving us, his com- 
rades. He counseled us all against the fallacy of hoping 
for an exchange or for any mercy from those into whose 
hands we had fallen. He said his doom foreshadowed 
our own, and entreated us to prepare for the worst, 
and, when the time came, to prove to them that we 
were as brave in confronting an ignom.inious death for 
our country's sake as we had been fearless in doing ser- 
vice for her. 1 shall never forget the solemnity of that 
distressing period of our imprisonment nor the deep 
impression the words of our poor comrade and leader 
made on us. Their sad echoings fill my ears now as sen- 
sitively as then — almost eighteen years ago — while my 
utterance chokes and my hand trembles as if that poor, 
miserable, forlorn man vras now before me in the dark 
prison, speaking words of encouragement and advice. 



CIIAPTEK X. 

Our Brave and Noble Leader — His Impending Doom — All 
Taken to Atlanta Again — Last Advice and Counsel from 
Andrews — Arrival at Atlanta — Dying the Death of a Spy — 
The Terrible Tragedy Consummated — Wollam Recaptured 
after Three Weeks — Account of his Adventures — Mark 
"Wood's Serious Sickness — The Pinchings of Hunger — Arrival 
of our Twelve Comrades from Knox-ville — False Hopes— The 
Old Villain, Thor — A Terrible Blow — Preparing Seven of 
our Comrades for the Gallows. 

" What verse can sing, what prose narrate, 
The butcher deeds of bloody fate." 

mS I have, since those dark hours, thought over 
V many of the incidents of our two or three months 
of prison confinement, while Andrews was with 
us, I can see many reasons for believing that, from the 
first, he was impressed with a belief that he was never 
to return from this expedition. He was not by any 
means a superstitious man, in the sense that word is 
used, nor was he given to whims, nor did he fear death, 
yet something in his manner, from the fii^t time I held 
any conversation with him expressing my concern 
because we were one day late, leads me to think that 
he was either a fatalist in belief or that some mysteri- 
ous, unknown and unaccountable agency whispered to 
him that he never should return. 
9 (129^ 



130 SAD EOMANCE. 

He confided to me, and perhaps to several of bis com- 
rades, something of his history. lie had been a spy, 
or secret service agent, and made several trips into dif- 
ferent parts of the Confederacy, obtaining much useful 
information, and invariably succeeded in accomplishing 
whatever he was sent to do. This was, probably, why 
General Mitchell reposed so much confidence in him as 
to entrust him as the leader of our ex[>odition. He 
told me, too, that this was to be his last expedition if 
he got out alive — that he should never undertake 
another trip. But, alas, poor fellow, he went once too 
often. 

There was, too, a sad romance connected with Andrews' 

fate, which I have not reverted too, and which was not, 

I think, generally known among our band. He was 

engaged to be married to an amiable, worthy young 

lady of a highly-esteemed Kentucky famil3^ Whether 

she knew of the perilous service he was engaged in, I 

do not know. If she did not, so much heavier must 

have been the blow to her when she heard of his fate. 

That he was chivalrously devoted to her I am certain, 

though it was a subject he seldom alluded to. I am 

certain, too, that could word have reached her of her 

lover's perilous situation, that she, through her kinsmen, 

could have brought strong influences in his favor, 

thouo-h whether his life could have been saved, I very 

much doubt. Their marriage day had been fixed, and 

would have taken place a few days previous to the 

reception of his death sentence. I think this melancholy 

end of a happy courtship, and the thought of her 

blighted life, more than anything else, saddened the last 

days of this heroic man. 



SUDDENLY TAKEN TO ATLANTA. 131 

A scaffold had already been erected in Chattanooga 
for the execution of Andrews ; but very early on the 
morning of the day for his execution, we were all taken 
to the depot and put on the cars for Atlanta. Why 
this change was so suddenly made in the programme I 
have never been able to discover. I have two theories. 
One is, that the mayor and blood-thirsty populace of 
Atlanta, who had come so near mobbing us, desired to 
have Andrews and the rest of our party hung in that 
city, that our blood might, in some manner, appease 
their bitter wrath. I have heard that the mayor form- 
ally made such a request, and have no reason to doubt 
it, from what I subsequently learned. Again, it will be 
remembered that "VVoUam, who broke jail with Andrews, 
was still at large at the time of which I am speaking, 
and for all the rebels knew, he might have arrived 
safely in General Mitchell's lines, and that officer might, 
at any time, make a dash, on Chattanooga and save 
Andre \^'s' life. It is barely possible, though I think 
hardly probable, under all the circumstances, that this 
last was the cause of our sudden removal. We were at 
a loss to know what this move to Atlanta meant, but it 
was not worth our while to ask questions. 

We were soon whirling along on that same, to us^ 
accursed railroad, for it brought no pleasant memories 
to us. At each town we were, as before, treated to a 
deluge of curses, taunts and epithets. Andrews was 
reminded and taunted at every station of his approach 
ing doom. While we were on the cars, Andrews, who 
was not chained to any other prisoner, and who sat in 
the next seat to me, requested me to go into the water 
closet and leave the window up as high as possible. 



132 AKDKKWS' LAST FAKKVVELL. 

Shortly after, Wood and I, who were chained together, . 
went to the closet, and I did m}^ best to open the win- 
dow high enough for a man's body, but the shutter 
was so arranged that it could not be raised above six 
inches. Andrews received the information with a look 
of sad disappointment. It was his last hope. lie did 
not expect to escape. He would have thrown himself 
w^ith his chains on from the window when the train was 
in full motion, and it would have saved them all further 
trouble with him. 

On reaching Atlanta we were conducted to a hall or 
second story room, not far from the depot, where we 
sat down on some benches. We had been here but a 
short time when a body of soldiers, in charge of several 
oflRcers, marched up into the building. One of the offi- 
cers, walking up to Andrews, informed him that the 
hour for his execution had come, and asked him if he 
was ready. Andrews replied that he was, only asking 
the privilege of bidding his comrades farewell. 

*^ Well, then, be d — d quick about it," was the unfeel- 
ino- reply, " for we have no time to fool away here." 

The brave man rose up, and approaching each of us, 
shook hands and bade us a last farewell. But few of 
the men could give utterance to a syllable. After this, 
the doomed man turned and walked away with the 
officer, and to this day I can hear the clink, clink, clink 
of those dreadful chains and clogs as step by step, he 
descended the stairs. We never saw the noble face and 
manly form of our leader again. 

The reader can better imagine than I can tell, the 
sorrowful, despondent feelings of our little band. We 
did not speak words of sorrow. AVe did not complain, 



DIED LIKK A HERO. 133 

nor did we shed tears. We had passed that ; yet^ so 
bad did we feel for the departed that the terrible silence 
seemed like a spell kept sacred to his memory . 

Soon after, we were ordered down and conducted to 
the jail of the cit}'', where we were put in iron cages for 
safe keeping. The guards who came in at ration time 
in the evening, told us that the tragedy had l^en con- 
summated ; that Andrews died like a brave man. llis 
calmness and noble, manly demeanor shamed even the 
clamorous mob who were spectators. The limb on 
which he was hung was so low that his. toes touched 
the ground, and in this way they kept him strangling 
for a long time, until at last some one took a shovel 
and mercifully removed the earth, when he soon after 
expired. The murder was complete. 

Thus did J. J. Andrews die the ignominious death of 
a spy — as noble, as true, as brave a man as ever lifted 
a hand in defence of our starry flag. He was thirty- 
two years of age, in the prime and vigor of young man- 
hood. She, who now would have been a happy wife 
in the love of such a noble, chivalrous man, was left in 
sorrow and mourning for one whose last moments she 
could not comfort by her presence, and whose last rest- 
ing place she should never know. 

Let me now turn from this sad episode and, with the 
reader's kind indulgence, give an account of John AVol- 
lara, who was last seen by us as he clambered out of 
the hole in the jail-loft at Chattanooga, amid the 
aroused guards. - The reader will feel interested to 
know more of the daring fellow, who risked so much 
to get away ; besides, his success or failure would, we 
then supposed, have- much to do with our subsequent 



134 JOHN wollam's adventukes. 

fate. Wollam and Andrews separated instantly on 
clearing the jail inclosure. Wollam soon reached the 
river, and finding no way to cross, hit on the happy 
expedient of making believe that he had crossed. He 
threw off his coat and vest near the water's edge, 
walked into the water and waded up the stream a short 
distance and came out in such a manner as to leave no 
trace. This ruse worked well. The pursuers, coming 
to this place, took up their dogs and changed the hunt 
to the other side of the river. They, of course, failed 
to find him, and Wollam, who was secreted in a dense 
thicket not far away, had the satisfaction of seeing 
them abandon further pursuit. When night came, he 
left his hiding place, passed around the town on 
the same side, and a short distance below found a 
canoe, with which he journeyed down the river by 
night. He would sink the boat by filling it with stones 
just before daybreak, and secrete himself in the brush 
until night came again. 

In this way he worked his way down the Tennessee 
until he was about eighty miles from Chattanooga, 
passing MitchelFs extemporised gunboat several times. 
This was a little steamer which that enterprising officer 
had captured and fitted up for patrol duty on the Ten- 
nessee above and below his camp. Had it been day- 
light instead of night that Wollam traveled, he would 
readily have detected the difference, but, as it was, he 
viewed the craft with suspicion and fear and kept out 
of sight, by putting in to shore under cover, as she 
passed. At last, after he had reached a considerable 
distance down, he began to travel in the day time, 
which Nvas a fatal mistake. He was spied by a band of 



.r, „ 135 



WOLLAM S CAPTURE. 

rebel cavalry and captured almost within hailino^ dis- 
tance of MitchelPs lines. He tried to make them 
believe he was a Confederate, but a lieutenant of the 
party, who had helped to capture him the first time, 
was present, and recognized Wollam as one of the 
train- stealers, when he was at once sent to Cliattanooga 
and soon arrived, in irons, and was again imprisoned 
with us in Atlanta jail, after having had his liberty 
over three weeks. We were much surprised when he 
returned, for we felt certain that he had reached the Fed- 
eral lines, or, in case he had not, that he was dead. It 
seemed as if fate was against us, and that none of our 
party were destined io reach our friends and make 
known our unfortunate condition. 

But to return. After we had been in the Athmta 
jail a short time, the prison-keeper had our chains and 
hand-cuffs taken off, thinking, no doubt, that bet\\ eea 
the iron cages in which we were shut at night, the great 
iron door of the hall and the prison guards, we would 
be safe. This was a great relief. No one who has worn 
such incumbrances can realize what a grateful change 
it made in our situation. We had worn them so long 
in couples that we would find ourselves involuntarily, 
at times, following each other about as if still compelled 
to do so with chains.*] 

My chain-mate, Mark Wood, had been very sick with 
fever, the result of severe exposure and the confinement 
and bad treatment in prison. It seemed for a time that 
he would never get up again. We did all we could for 
the poor fellow, Avhose mind was in a delirium, while 
his body was but a skeleton. After much coaxing and 
pleading on our part, a doctor was sent in, who admin- 



136 MARK WOOD. 

istered medicine, and after the fever had taken its 
course, I had the satisfaction of seeing him change for 
the better. I sometimes thought that, perhaps, we 
would do but a merciful kindness to let him die of dis- 
ease, and thus, possibly, save him from a worse fate; 
but Wood seemed nearer to me than any other, not 
only because w^e were from the same company and regi- 
ment, but from our association in the trying days and 
nights while we were fugitives in the mountains. He 
seemed to regard me more in the light of a guardian 
and protector, and relied upon me more than upon him- 
self. This did not make him the most useful comrade 
in a close emergency, for lie did not seem to consider 
himself capable of acting without first consulting me. 
Mark was an Englishman by birth, with whom I had 
no acquaintance before our enlistment. Before entering 
the service he lived at Portage, and was in the employ 
of Austin Yan Blarcum. He was also in the employ 
of William Wakefield, of Bowling Green, for some 
time. He was twenty-one years of age, a bright, free, 
thoughtless, rollicking Englishman; good humored, 
impulsive, generous and brave, and had much of the 
spirit of adventure in his composition, so characteristic 
of his countrymen. His gratitude toward me, to whom 
he attributed the saving of his life, never ceased to his 
dying breath. And, on my part, I may say, ]->erhaps, 
as truthfully of poor unfortunate Mark, that at the 
critical moment in my life, he came to my rescue, and 
by speaking a word in the nick of time saved me, which 
circumstance will appear further on. 

When Mark began to get better, the prisoners would 
rally him occasionally by saying to him : 



MAKK wood's sickness. 137 

"Mark, if I were yon, I would not try to get well. 
You can, by dying, save the rebels the trouble of hang- 
ing you. AVhy not be a little accommodating, since all 
they do for us is done without pay 1 " 

This, certainly, was not much encouragement- to a 
sick man, yet Mark would laugh a wild, unnatural kiugh, 
and say he was going to get well to spite them. 

We passed the time, some playing checkers or cards 
if they had them, singing, reading the Scriptures or 
almost anything that we could get to read, in discus- 
sions and in various ways such as are known to those 
who have been in prison. At best, prison life is a 
dreary, monotonous, tiresome existence. Some circum- 
stance-s in our case made it especially so. The rations 
we received at this prison were both scanty, and, at 
times, loathsome, and for Wood, our invalid comrade, I 
feared they would cause his death, even after he could 
vv'alk about, for he had a ravenous appetite and would 
devour the scanty allowance of coarse corn-bread, 
ground cob* and all, with his bit of spoiled bacon — 
which stunk sometimes beyond the endurance of a well 
man — like a wolf, and scarcely stop to pick out the 
worms that had been boiled with it. 

Sometimes, in the absence of corn-bread, we would 
get a few negro peas, which were boiled with the meat, 
and these peas were infested with little bugs, which, 
with the maggots in the meat, were almost enough to 
convulse the stomach of a hungry dog. I have found, 
by experience, and I think I will be corroborated by all 
the men who have been in rebel prisons and suffered 
the protracted pangs of hunger and starvation, that 
man, when forced to it, is as ravenous, reckless, unrea- 



138 OUR COMRADES RETURN FROM KNOXVILLE. 

sonable and brutish in his appetite as the lowest order 
of animal creation. In Andersonville, history tells us 
that men murdered and robbed their own comrades in 
order that they might sell their few effects to the 
guards for bread. In one of the Eichmond prisons I 
have heard tell of two brothers, almost crazy from the 
pangs of hunger, fighting brutally over a miserable 
little mouthful of the flesh of a dog. Hunger knows 
no arbitrary law nor code of honor. 

While time hung thus heavil^^, we were surprised 
one day to hear that the balance of our party had 
arrived. These were the twelve men who had been 
sent to Knoxville for trial, and of whose fate we had 
since been ignorant. They, with some Tennessee Union- 
ists, had been put in a room in the back part of the jail 
in which we were imprisoned. The next day two or 
three of them obtained permission from the guard to 
come into our room. From them we learned that seven 
of their number had been tried by court-martial, but 
none of them knew what the decision was. 

About this time, and before any more could be tried, 
events occurred in other quarters that caused the court- 
martial to break up and the officers to hurry to their 
respective commands. I suppose this was caused by 
the capture of Cumberland Gap by General Morgan 
and the threatened invasion of East Tennessee by the 
Federals, or, perhaps, the officers were needed to go 
w^ith Bragg on his great raid into Kentucky. 

Our comrades all seemed in good spirits and hopeful. 
They had heard of the death of Andrews before they 
left Knoxville. They had also been told by some of 
the guard that Andrews was the only man intended to 



THE ODIOUS THOR. 139 

be executed, and that the rest of ns would simply be 
kept until the war was over. This gave much encour- 
agement to some of our men, but I must confess I was 
not in a frame of mind to build much hope on these 
Imports. The admonition of Andrews still rang in my 
eai^. There seemed to exist a feeling of fiendish, 
malicious brutality toward us, that was felt and shown 
toward no other prisoners except the East Tennessee 
Union men, whose wrongs and sufferings during the 
war have been so graphically portrayed by Parson 
Brownlow. 

For instance, our comrades who had just arrived, told 
us that as they reached the depot in Atlanta, they were 
taunted and jeered by the mob, and a man, who said he 
W'as the mayor, told them he should have tiie |)leasure 
of putting the rope on each of their necks, as he had done 
to their miserable, thieving, spying scoundrel of a 
leader, Andrews, lie told them they would not be 
troubled with any more railroad rides. Again, the 
jailer, whom I have since visited, when 1 was free and 
wore the blue, was a humane man, and at first gave us 
liberal rations. He was soon suspected of being too 
friendly with us, and this duty taken out of his hands, 
and an odious, wretched old Yanicee-hater, named 
Thor, who was a fit instrument for the business, was 
hired as a spy on the jailer's actions. 

I will here give it as my best impression that Thor, 
the old villain, met his just desei'ts when Sherman's 
men captured Atlanta. There were six men in that 
vast army of veteran fighters, w^ho had been victims to 
the old miscreant's cruelty and hatred of Yankees. 

This whole matter of doubt and uncertaintv was soon 



140 6EVEN DOOMED TO DEATH, 

set at rest, for one afternoon, about a week after the 
arrival of our Knoxville comrades, a body of cavalry, in 
charge of officers, filed in and halted in front of the 
jail. Several of the officers and a strong guard of men 
came up and halted in front of our room. Our party, 
at this time, had arranged so that we had all been 
allowed in a room together during the day. We knew 
then there was something up. Soon the door opened, 
and the officer read off the names of our comrades who 
had been tried at Knoxville. They were as follows : 

Samuel Robinson, John Scott, Perry G. Shadrack, 
Samuel Slavens, William Campbell, Marion Eoss and 
George D. Wilson. 

One of the men, Ilobinson, Avas sick with fever, and 
had to be assisted to his feet and out of the room. lie 
was abused by the officers shamefully. They were 
taken to a room near by, occupied by the Tennessee 
prisoners, and the latter were brought over and put 
into our room. There was much excitement and spec- 
ulation on our part. With bated breath we eagerly 
inquired of each other what this could all mean. Some 
even supposed our comrades had been taken out to be 
paroled or exchanged. 

The room into which they were taken was only sepa- 
rated from ours by a hall, and we could hear the doom 
of the poor fellows pronounced as their death sentences 
were read to them, and they were enjoined to hurry up 
and get ready to accompany the guard to the place of 
execution, as time was precious, and they had no 
moments to waste. The whole party at once returned 
to our room, and George D. Wilson, with pale face and 
quivering lip, informed us in a startling whisper, that 



AND LED OUT TO EXECUTION. 141 

they were to be hung immediately. Even while our 
doomed comrades were saying their farewells to us, the 
rebel guards were busily engaged in pinioning their 
arms with ropes, preparatory to their journey to the 
scaffold. Their relentless executioners drove them in 
impatient, brutal haste, even refusing them the poor 
boon of saying farewell to some of their comrades. 

That terrible moment will never be effaced from the 
tablets of my memory. It is indelibly and vividly 
engraven there. It was a sudden and dreadful blow to 
those poor fellows, who had been lured into the false 
hope of being exchanged or paroled. From the very 
instant the cavalry halted in front of our prison, an un- 
explainable horror had seized upon me. I felt that 
their visit meant no good to us, and when the epauletted 
brute, who had charge of the murderers, came in and 
informed us who were left in the room, that they would 
attend to the rest of us very soon, I felt almost like 
thanking him for saying so, for there would be no more 
doubting. AYe knew exactly what to expect and could 
act accordingly. Then came the choking, hurried fare- 
wells. Oh, what a sad, sad, trying moment that was 1 
It is as vividly before me now as then, and the last 
farewell of those dear comrades, as they left us, will 
linger and pain me as long as consciousness remains. 



CHAPTER XT. 

Painful Reflections — Brave Bearing of the Doomed Seven — 
**Tell Them I Died for My Countiy " — Poor John Scott — 
George "Wilson's Dying Speech on the Gallows — A Brutal 
Scene — Rope Breaks with Two — It is Readjusted and the 
Tragedy is Complete — Seven Murdered Heroes — Southern 
Barbarity — An Afternoon Never to be Forgotten — Solemn 
Hours in Prison — Sacred to the Memory of Our Comrades — 
A Night of Prayer — Captain David Fry — A Christian Hero 
— A Rebel Minister — Letter Sent to Jeff Davis and its Prob- 
able Result. 



" Onr bread was such as captives' tears 
Have moistened many a thouBand years, 
Since man firet pent his fellow men 
Like brutes within an ii-ou den." 



tf ITE blow fell with greater weight upon some of 
the doomeil men from the fact they had built such 
strong hopes of a better fate. It will be remem- 
bered as related in a former chapter, that George Wil- 
son and Marion Eoss, two of the fated men, now biddino: 
us a final farewell, had been so strongly impressed with 
this fallacious belief that thej^ had been partly instru- 
mental in preventing an attempt to escape at Chatta- 
nooga. But, oh ! how terribly were they and all of 
our party undeceived, and how truly prophetic and cor- 
rect were the warning words of Andrews ! IIow much 
better than we did he know the frenzied, blood-thirstv, 

(142) 



THE HEROIC SEVEN. 143 

merciless nature of the horde who were waging a war 
for the perpetuity of human slavery. 

The first warning those men had of their doom after 
they were separated from us was when the officer 
handed them each a paper containing their death-sen- 
tence, and before they had time to read the terrible 
words the guards w^ere tying their arms with ropes. 
Robinson, who was so sick with fever that he could not 
stand on his feet, was cursed and threatened by the 
officer, by whose orders he was dragged out and down 
stairs. 

The measureless pain and sorrow I felt for the fate 
of those comrades, is to this day mingled with proud 
admiration for their noble, manly fortitude in that try- 
ing moment. A true man, in the mad excitement of 
strife on the battle-field, can march with his comrades 
to meet death without faltering, but for an innocent 
man to bravely and calmly meet the fate of a murderer 
on the scaffold, is a test of courage for a soldier, which 
few men can realize until commanded to prepare for 
the halter. It is hard for a man in the full vigor of 
health and the prime of life to imagine what his feel- 
ings would be, if called upon suddenly to face an igno- 
minious fate at the hands of exultant, heartless execu- 
tioners, and in the presence of a blood-thirsty, jeering 
rabble, and without so much as a half-hour's time to 
arrange his spiritual and temporal affairs ; yet such was 
the lot of our comrades, and they met their fate like 
true soldiers. 

Marion Ross was the least affected. As he shook 
hands with us, he spoke out in a clear tone of voice and 
said : " Boys, if any of you ever get back, tell them I 



114 THEIK SAD FAKKWEI.LS, 

died for my country ; tell them I died like a man and 
did not regret it." Our party seemed to be like the 
majority of younc^ men who entered the army — careless 
of any preparations or thought for the world beyond 
the grave. 

George Wilson, who had one of the brightest minds 
of the party, was a professed disbeliever — an infidel, 
-and often I had heard him argue with William Pitten- 
ger against the truth of the Scriptures while in prison. 
Pittenger, I believe, was intending to engage in the 
ministry. In this last, solemn moment, however, Wil- 
son took Pittenger by the hand and said, '* I believe you 
are right, Pittenger. Oh, try to prepare for death 
better than I have done. May God bless you — farewell." 

Slavens, ^vho was a man athletic of stature and Iler- 
eulean in strength, and would have been a fit soldier for 
the da3^s and army of Frederick the Great, could only 
articulate to his near friend, Buffum, "Wife — chddren 
— tell — them — " when his utterance choked, and he 
completely broke down. 

There was one of that fated band whose parting 
farewell is painfully vivid before me to-day — a member 
-t)f my own proud and honored regiment, the Twenty- 
First Ohio — John Scott, as brave, faithful and patriotic 
a son, brother and husband as ever shouldered a mus- 
ket fo his country. Alas! little did he think, when 
three days after his marriage to a worthy young lady of 
his native town, he parted from her, of the fate that 
awaited him, and little did that patriotic and loving 
bride dream that the young husband she had surren- 
<lered up to his country's call must die the death of a 
martyr on the scaffold ! John Scott was from Findlay 



^ ) 



HEROIC JOHN SCOTT. 145 

Ohio, and was one of the best men in our partj. He 
was a good soldier, quiet, determined, persevering and 
brave. He bore all his deprivations and hardships with 
manly fortitude, and, as he came to each of us for the 
last time, he clasped our hands in silent agony. No 
tears — no words. His noble breast did not throb for 
fear of death, although his executioners stood all about 
him, but for those he loved so dearly, that he was never 
to see again. I have, since the war, visited his family 
and friends in his once happy home, where the memory 
of the noble son and brother is still cherished and 
mourned ; and which sorrow is shared in by every sur- 
vivor of that little band of men. 

Our comrades were hauled from the prison to the 
place of execution in an old wagon. The scenes that 
transpired there we learned from our guards the 
same evening, or the following day. As near as 
we could get at the facts, as related by them, the 
scaffold was surrounded by about five hundred 
guerrillas, or bush-whacking cavalrymen, who, 
probably, had never been near enough to the Federal 
lines to smell gunpowder or blood. These rangers, or 
guerrillas, disputed for the honor of becoming the mur- 
derers, and finally twelve were selectfed by vote. When 
the doomed men were on the scaffold, in the presence 
of that excited, jeering mob, George Wilson, who was 
game to the last and worthy a better fate, asked per- 
mission to say a few words. Out of curiosity, perhaps, 
on their part, he was allowed to speak. His words, 
most likely, disappointed them, still they listened, while 
one of those " terrible, thieving, cowardly Yankees " 
stood up there on that trap-door of death and in a calm, 
10 



146 ADDRESS OF BRAVE GEORGE WILSON. 

unfaltering voice spoke earnest words of wisdom and 
warning to them. His calmness and deliberation and 
his clear voice commanded their attention and his words 
seemed to awe the desperate, blood-thirsty rabble into 
silence. He told them that they were doing wrong in 
rebelling against their government — that they had 
been misguided by their leaders and that they would 
soon have cause to regret the course they wei'e taking. 
He earnestly admonished them that the old Union 
would be restored and that the old flag would again 
float over their city. He told them that, although 
condemned as a spy, yet he was not a spy and they 
well knew it. He was only a soldier performing a duty 
for which he had been detailed. He told them he did 
not fear nor regret to die, but only regretted the man- 
ner of his death. 

His words made a deep impression on the crowd. 
Many of them evidently thought that if the Yankee 
army was all of his mind and bravery the probabilities 
were that the Union would be restored and the rebel- 
lion squelched. 

When Wilson ceased speaking the signal was given 
and the trap was sprung. Two of the men, Campbell 
and Slavens, ayIio were very heavy, broke their ropes 
and fell to the ground insensible. When they came to 
a little, they asked for water and also requested a little 
time for prayer. The w^ater was given them, and they 
were allowed to live long enough to see the lifeless bod- 
ies of their comrades placed in coffins, when they were 
peremptorily ordered to reascend the scaffold, when 
the ropes were soon adjusted and the two men again 
launched off, this time into an unknown eternity. 



BRUTAL AND BARBAROUS. 147 

Thus were those seven men murdered, without warn- 
ing — without a friend to say a last encouraging, s\'m- 
pathetic word — without a spiritual adviser — yes, 
without the last poor privilege of a little time to offer up 
for themselves an humble petition to the Throne of 
Grace, for a merciful Savior to receive their soulsy 
where suffering and sorrow are at an end. It seemed 
as if the heartless fiends sought to murder both body 
and soul. The blackest-hearted criminal is always 
allowed, in civilized nations, the consolation of spiritual 
advice and prayer; but these, our poor, unfortunate 
comrades, who were guilty of no crime other than try- 
ing to serve their country, "were sent before their Crea- 
tor without even so much as the privilege accorded a 
common criminal. Yet these same unchristian men — 
rebels — the leaders in the government and society 
who thus brutally treated the soldiers of this great 
government, are to-day seeking place and power in the 
nation they sought to destroy, and in doing which they 
took a fiendish delight in heaping the most inhuman 
tortures that their innate cruelty could devise upon those 
who came to its defense in the hour of its danger. "Was 
ever a government so merciful and lenient to its ene- 
mies ? I think there is no parallel to it in history. I 
ask the reader's pardon for this digression. 

We learned, also, that the rebel soldiers, after the 
execution, spent the remainder of the day and evening 
in drunken revelry and jollification, because of the 
seven " Yanks " they had had the pleasure of putting 
out of the way, and with a further prospect of soon 
having another hanging-bee for the " Yanks " yet loft 
in jail. The reader can well imagine the scene of sor- 



148 A NIGHT OF GLOOM. 

row and utter desolation which reigned among us who 
were left in that gloomy prison. 

That afternoon and evening will never be forgotten 
by those of us who were confined within those hated 
walls. "We were bowed with a grief too oppressive for 
words. Each one bore the bitterness of those hours in 
close communion with himself. 'No pen can describe 
the anguish of those moments. All joviality was at an 
end — no word of consolation was uttered — not a gleam 
of hope seemed to illumine those dark and terrible 
hours, as they dragged so slowly along. How long 
that dark pall of gloom surrounded us, with a silence 
that was terrible, I know not. Some one, at last, sug- 
gested prayer, and every member of our remaining 
little band bowed in compliance with that suggestion. 

That prayer meeting was one of the most solemn and 
impressive ever witnessed. It was led by Captain 
David Fry, an East Tennesseean, who had been brought 
with the twelve of our party from tl;ie court-martial at 
Knoxville, and after our seven comrades had been led 
out to execution, he was placed in the room with us. 
For some time those devotional exercises were contin- 
ued, and this good, brave and loyal man proved him- 
self no less worthy as a spiritual adviser, than he was a 
trusty leader against the schemes of rebel foes. 

Captain Fry, who ever after stood by us with such 
fortitude that we all learned to love him, belonged to 
a Union regiment in East Tennessee, and was held as 
a spy and bridge-burner — a charge very similar to that 
brought against us — although he was captured when 
fighting bravely at the head of his column, and covered 
with wounds. He was one of the best and noblest 



CAPTAIN DAVID FRY. 149 

hearted men I ever met — a soldier and a patriot — a 
Christian and a gentleman. His influence had been a 
power in behalf of the Union in East Tennessee. He 
first came to notice by some feats of daring, and, I think, 
is mentioned prominently in the book published by 
Dan. Ellis, the famous Tennessee scout and spy. Cap- 
tain Fry first saw service in the Mexican war, and was 
a man of fine stature and great muscular power — brave 
as a lion, yet tender and sympathetic as a child to those 
in need or distress. He organized a company of his- 
Union neighbors, and led them through the mountains 
to Kentucky. On the assurance of help by the Union 
Generals in Kentucky, he consented to make a trip 
back to East Tennessee, for the purpose of destroying 
important lines of railroad communication, and rallying 
the Union men. It was an arduous and dano^erous 
undertaking. Had he been promptly helped, as seemed 
possible at that time, he would have saved much of the 
suffering and persecution endured by the people of that 
State, and given a strong element to the Union cause, 
which was murdered, driven off, or forced into the 
rebel army or prisons. As it was, he was left to his 
fate almost unaided. The rebels concentrated a strono^ 
armed force, and while Fry was conducting a body of 
Union refugees to Kentuck}^, he was attacked by a 
superior force, and, after a brave fight, he was wounded 
and captured, and had the daily assurance from his cap- 
tors that he would quit this world at the end of a rope — 
an assurance he had no reason to doubt the ultimate 
fulfillment of. He was of inestimable value to our little 
forlorn band, and was a good man in a '' close emer- 
genc}'^," as will be seen hereafter. 



150 STATE OF UNCERTAINTY. 

As has been previously mentioned, only eight of our 
party, including Andrews, had gone through the' form 
of a trial : but at one time during our stay at Chattanooga 
when our hopes were quite high, that we should be 
paroled or exchanged like other prisoners, most of the 
men had consented that after two or three had been 
tried, the rest would accept the verdict adjudged by 
the court, and abide the decision the same as if all had 
been tried. We could see no reason why there should 
be any difference in the verdict in each case, except for 
Andrews, and, possibly Brown, the engineer, in case 
they found him out. Afterwards this looked like a 
trap, into which we had been drawn, when we had been 
led to hope for lenient treatment. 

It will be readily observed that we were now in a 
state of doubt and suspense Avell nigh intolerable. 
Neither could we get any information as to how or 
Avhen we were to be disposed of. We had no friend, 
no lawyer, no counselor, and from day to day groped 
along in this wearing, trying uncertainty. We had not 
been tried, nor had we any reason to believe that they 
intended to give us a trial, yet, why had they not exe- 
cuted us with the rest of our comrades, who were guilty 
of no greater or less offence than ourselves? We 
watched every movement and word that was spoken, 
to learn, if possible, what the next step in our cases 
would probably be. Of their intention to execute us 
we had no doubt. Thus time dragged on week after 
week. We resorted to every kind of amusement we 
could think of to keep our minds from getting into a 
state of despondency. Card-playing we had banished 
from our midst smce the execution of our comrades, 



A KEBEL MINISTER. 



151 



but we played checkers on a board cut on the floor, 
engaged in discussions, talked about the war, its final 
outcome, its results upon the country, what would be 
done with the rebels, their property, etc., etc. 

"While we were dragging out this miserable, monoto- 
nous existence, providentially or otherwise, a preacher 
of the city, named McDonald, a Presbyterian I believe, 
visited us one day. He was a friendly, kind-hearted 
man, and, I believe, a true Christian, although I noticed, 
when we all kneeled in prayer at his request, after we 
had joined him in singing a hymn, he opened his prayer 
with the singular petition that our lives might be 
spared if it ivas in accordance with the hest interests of 
the Confederacy. This prayer did not suit us exactly, 
but we felt that this kind man's voice would, in the 
end, have little weight in the scale, for or against our 
lives, so far as the Confederates were concerned, for 
they were an ungodly set at best. If this good man is 
yet living, he has my best wishes, as being the only 
rebel, besides our old jailer, who ever spoke a kind, en- 
couraging word to me during all my imprisonment and 
fugitive wanderings in that slave-cursed land. He 
afterwards loaned us a few books, such as ^' Bunyan's 
Pilgrim's Progress," ^'Milton's Paradise Lost,-' etc., 
which one of our company would read aloud, while the 
rest maintained the best of order. This was a great 
comfort to us and kept our minds from brooding over 
our heavy burden of woe. As each day would fade 
into night, and the long, red rays of the setting sun 
gleam through the prison bars, we would wonder if we 
might ever see its fading glory again. We remembered 
constantly that each day might be our last. We had 



152 LEFIER TO JEFF. DAVIS. 

almost ceased to even hope to see our friends again, 
who lived in what our boys called "God's country." 
Our thoughts would wander away to them, and many 
a time a silent tear might be seen to course its way 
unbidden doAvn the cheek of some poor fellow who had 
not spoken for an hour. Our food was so scanty and 
bad as to keep us on the verge of starvation and to 
crush all the spirit and resolution we had. We won- 
dered, as the weeks rolled by, w^hy we Avere not execu- 
ted — why they still kept us. 

Finally, we conceived the notion to write to Jeff. 
Davis, himself, the boss traitor and leading spirit of the 
wicked rebellion. We were certain that it could not 
make our condition any worse. Some of our party 
occasionally would sell a vest or some other garment 
to the rebel guards for a little scrip, and in this way we 
could get trifles, such as a bit of tobacco and the like, 
and I suppose it was in this w^ay we procured paper 
and material to w^rite to Davis. Mr. Pittenger, an 
intelligent man in our party, acted as scribe, and a 
respectful letter, setting forth our condition as well as 
w^e could, w^as written, sealed, stamped and directed 
properly to the rebel chief, at Richmond, and through 
a little good management by the negro cook, who took 
the letter to the postoffice, I have every reason to 
believe it reached its destination. 

We never heard anything from it, but we did hear a 
short time afterward that the Provost Marshal of 
Atlanta got a sharp letter from the rebel Secretary of 
War, wanting to know '^ why in h — 1 those train-thieves 
had not been executed," evidently having been under 
the impression that Ave had all been hung long since. 



KEBEL AUTIIOlilTIES IN A FLUTfER^ 153 

The Provost referred the Secretary to the record of pro- 
ceedings of the Knoxville court-martial. "Whether our 
letter had anything to do in the premises we never 
knew, but we became aware that there was some pretty 
pointed correspondence going on between Colonel Lee, 
the Provost, and the Eichmond authorities, and that 
we had reason to feel deeply concerned, the reader may 
infer, from the fact that we set about taking desperate 
measures to once more try to escape* 



CHAPTER XII. 

The Jail at Atlanta — Preparations to Break Jail — Expecting 
an Order for Our Execution — We Must Stiike a Blow for 
Liberty — The Plan Determined — Busy Preparations — Prayer 
for Deliverance — The Last Desperate Chance— The Critical 
Moment — The Blow is Struck — Fighting the Guards — Away 
We Go — Liberty, Once More — The Pursuit. 

"There is a war, a chaos of the mind, 
When all its elements convulsed— combined — 
Lie dark and jarring with perturbed force." 

||N order that the reader may more fully understand 
that which will be detailed hereafter, I will briefly 
§ describe the jail in which we were confined. The 
building, the walls of which were of brick, and very 
thick, was a pretty large one, enclosed by a high, tight 
board fence, similar to most prisons. In front of the 
jail there was a heavy door or gate that opened 
through the fence into the jail yard, and by which 
ino-ress and egress to and from the jail was had. This 
gate was usually kept locked; besides, a sentry was 
kept on duty, and sometimes two, at this entrance. The 
jail, which was two stories high, had several rooms 
below, used for the convenience of the jailer and his 
family. There vras a hall that led clear through the 
building, from the front door to a door which led into 

(154) 



THE ATLANTA JAIL. 155 

the back yard. A stairs led up from the right hand 
side of the hall, a few paces from the front door, to a 
similar hall in the second story. On each side of the 
second story hall were two large rooms, and in two of 
these rooms was a stout iron cage, similar to that which 
Barnum used to carry the big rhinoceros in. That they 
were built strong, 1 know from experience, and also 
that there was no chance to get out of a cage unless 
with assistance from the outside. In the rear of these 
cage-rooms, and in the back part of the building, were 
two rooms without cages. Each of these rooms had 
two windows, strono-lv barred across with iron. Besides 
the brick walls which surrounded the four sides of every 
room, there was a second wall inside of the brick and 
fastened to it, of oak plank laid one upon the other flat 
and thoroughly spiked through and through. Every 
door was strongly built of heavy iron bars riveted 
together, and hung on massive hinges. From this 
imperfect description of our prison, the reader will see 
that the prospect of our Ireahing out was not the best. 
In vain had we looked and examined and re-examined 
these walls to find a weak spot that promised us the 
least hope for once more gaining our liberty. 

But the evidences were increasing daily that there 
was '^ something in the wind " that boded no good to 
us. We resolved unanimously — a resolve that may 
seem to the reader on a par with the resolution of the 
convention of mice in the fable, that resolved to put a 
bell on the cat — to get out if — if — we became satis- 
fied that we were to be executed. The negro cooks, also 
the jailer's wife and daughters, were not in sympathy 
with the rebellion. Xeither do I believe the jailer was 



156 TALK OF OUR EXECUTION. 

a rebel at heart, yet so closely was he watched that he 
dared not show any friendship toward us. Still, we 
managed to get much information through these 
sources, although it was impossible that they could 
afford us any substantial assistance. 

AYe communicated with the 2:>risoners in the room 
opposite to us through the stove-pipe, which entered 
the same chimney from both rooms, the pipe-holes 
being almost exactly o})posite. We would take off the 
pipe-elbow and speak through, tube fashion, though we 
had to be careful that we were not overheard. It was 
by this means that we learned, from some new prisoners 
brought in, of the Emancipation Proclamation of Pres- 
ident Lincoln. This caused great commotion among 
the rebels, and brought down bitter maledictions upon 
the good President Lincoln's head. The negroes, ignorant 
as they were, seemed to take a lively interest in the Proc- 
lamation, and were never so pleased as when they could 
speak to us on the sly about it. 

About this same time, a couple of regular army 
soldiers, confined in the next room, which overlooked 
the front yard, overheard Colonel Lee, the Provost, 
telling the officer of the guard that he hourly expected 
an order for the execution of "those raiders." This 
information was soon made known to us, and only cor- 
roborated other reports that we had heard, and things 
that we had seen. The day following, the wife of a 
citizen prisoner came in to visit her husband, and she 
told him that it was the general talk in the city that 
the Yankee raiders were to be executed within a day or 
two, and that everybody was going to witness the exe- 
cution. This man sent word to us as soon as he could 



ESCAPE DETERMINED ON. 157 

from his room, and further advised us to try to break 
jail. He did not know that we had already dec'ded to 
do so, for we kept our plans entirely secret. 

After sifting and weighing closely all the information 
we had, it stood about in this way : The rebel Secre- 
tary of War had issued orders to the commander of 
that department that we should be executed without 
further delay, and a little formality — Confederate 
army red tape — was all that now stood between us 
and the scaffold. This would not save our necks long. 
It might be an hour ; it might be as long as a week ; 
but, if we had any hope of getting beyond those prison 
Avails, except on a death-cart to the gallows, the blow 
must be struck at once. Otherwise Ave might as well 
say our prayers and resign ourselves to our fate. 

I belicA^e in the efficacy of earnest Christian prayer, 
but prayer in a Confederate prison seemed to haA^e less 
effect than in any place I have CA^er before or since 
been, and had it not been for the kind preacher who 
visited us in jail, I should feel like giA^ing it as my 
belief that God, in Ilis anger, had stricken that part of 
rebeldom from Heaven's court calender, as unworth}^ 
of representation in His kingdom of peace, justice and 
good will, and only fit for the fare of Sodom and 
Gomorrah. 

We resolA'ed to make the attempt to regain our lib- 
erty and saA^e our liA^es Avithout further delay. Hazard- 
ous and unpromising as Avas the prospect, it could not 
result in Avorse than death, and that Avas our fate in any 
eA^ent Avithin a day or two. Our plan was quickly agreed 
upon. We had talked the matter over hundreds of 
times of late. It was not to break the jail, for that, as 



158 MAKIIsG I'KEPAKATIONS. 

is already known, was an impossibility with our poor 
means in the way of implements. 

We had decided to seize the jailer, Mr. Turner, when 
he came to the door to put in our rations, take the keys 
from him, unlock the doors and let out tlie prisoners in 
the other rooms, then all descend the stairs, and divide 
into two squads — one squad to go to the rear door and 
capture the guards, ^\h\\e the other squad should cap- 
ture and disarm the guards at the front door and in 
the yard. This was all to be done as quietly as possi- 
ble. Then, with the muskets so obtained, we might be 
able to march on the double quick out of the city, at 
once scatter to the nearest woods, and make the best 
disposal of ourselves that circumstances would admit of. 

When it is remembered that we were in the jail of a 
large city, not a street of which w^e knew, that soldiers, 
home guards and police could be rallied at a moment's 
warninir, and that the whole population, dogs and all, 
would freely turn out to hunt for the train-thieves, and 
the further fact that we had been so reduced and en- 
feebled by months of confinement and hunger, that we 
were but shadow^s of our former selves, and it will be 
seen that we had no small contract on our hands. But 
experience has taught me that man, in the fix we were, 
is the worst and most desperate creature on earth, and 
will do things that seem utter impossibilities before 
their accomplishment. 

We at once set about preparing ourselves for a jour- 
ney. We mended our old, worn-out clothes as well as 
we could, so that our appearance among strangers 
would not betray us. We cut out old pieces of blankets 



PRAYER FOR DELIVERANCE. 159' 

and made socks to protect our feet from our old, worn,, 
hard shoes and boots. We gathered up several hickory 
sticks that we had in prison, and also some old bottles 
and such other implements that we could lay hands on, 
to use as weapons in our assault on the guards. The 
time fixed for the assault was in the evening when our 
supper rations were brought in, w^hich was sometime 
before sunset, and when our movements outside, should 
we succeed, would soon be covered by darkness. The 
routes to be taken after we were out were discussed 
and it was agreed by all that we must avoid any of the 
principal roads or ferries of the surrounding country. 

Captain Fry engaged the party in prayer for our 
safe deliverance, and a few moments before ration time 
came, we all shook hands and bid each other good bye, 
many of the men shedding tears, for we knew and felt 
that we should never all meet again in this world. 
Captain Fry shed tears like a child. I can distinctly 
see that noble head, whose locks were sprinkled a little 
with iron gray, as on bended knees, he prayed for our 
deliverance, and as tremulously he shook our hands at 
the parting. It was decided not to make the attempt 
when the rations were passed in to us, but to wait until 
the door was opened the second time, after we had had 
time to eat, for the purpose of taking out the ration-pan 
or bucket and giving us water. This would make the 
time so much nearer sundown or dark, which was very 
important to us. 

AVhen the door was opened, we were in our usual 
places, and tried to look as composed as possible, as the 
negro came in and set down our "feed," while the jailer 
held the door and looked in through the bars. The door 



160 THE CRITICAL MOMLNT. 

was closed after the negro went out and into the other 
rooms. Had the jailer scrutinized closely, I think he 
could have seen that something unusual had, or was 
about to transpire, for a settled look of determination 
and desperate resolve was set in every man's eye and 
face, and to me, at least, Avas plainly visible. Most of 
the men, while pretending to eat their rations, quietly 
hid away a morsel in their pockets for the morrow. 

Each man had his part assigned him, like the players 
in a drama. Captain Fry had the post of honor. To 
him, by common consent, was entrusted the " ticklish " 
job of seizing the jailer at the door, on account of his 
powerful build and great strength. I can scarcely 
remember now the details of the work assigned to each 
man. My own part of the work was with the squad 
that was to tackle the guards in the front yard. We 
prolonged the supper ceremony as long as possible, in 
order to gain time. After some twenty minutes, per- 
haps, the jailer returned to the door, and putting his 
bunch of keys down to the great lock, it loosened with 
a loud click and came out of the staple, when Mr. Tur- 
r.er stood on the threshold. 

The critical moment had come. 

AVe were all watching Captain Fry, for the noble 
man of prayers and tears was a cool-headed, brave sol- 
dier as well. He took his position near the door, and, as 
the jailer stepped in. he placed his hand on his shoulder 
as if to speak privately with him, and, Avith a smile as 
pleasant as a May morning and the courtly obeisance 
of a cavalier, he threw Mr. Turner entirely off his 
guard as he said : 

^' A pleasant evening, Mr. Turner," and reaching his 



THE BREAK FKOM PRISON. 161 

aiin around the jailers neck, continued, *' we have con- 
cluded to take a walk — ." At this instant he clapped 
his hand over Turner's mouth, suppressing that man's 
half -uttered call for the guard, and held the surprised 
and struggling jailer as if in a vice. Robert Buffum, 
at the same time, sprang like a cat, and with a single 
surge, w^renched the bunch of keys from the jailer's 
hand. Turner w^as a stout, wiry man, and struggled 
violently, but Fry held him with the powerful embrace 
of a " grizzly," while a steady hand over his mouth and 
neck kept him from making any alarm, Fry at the 
same time cautioning him to keep quiet — that he 
would not be hurt. 

Buffum, in the meantime, keys in hand, w^as slinging 
the doors open right and left, and, in less time than I 
am telling it, all the prisoners who ^vanted to go were 
marshaled in the hall and ready for a descent on the 
guards below. Luckily for old Thor, he was not about ; 
if he had been, a glass bottle on the head would have 
been his portion. To go to the yard, front and rear, 
was but the work of an instant. 

The guards were thunderstruck with surprise, and 
were disarmed before they recovered their senses, ex- 
cept three cowardly sand-lappers, who ran out of the 
gate screaming, " Murder ! Corporal of the guard ! Cap- 
tain of the guard ! Police ! Murder ! " and other ex- 
clamations of alarm. 

After yelling themselves nearly hoarse, they took 
refuge behind the fence, outside of the gate, and pointed 
their muskets inside. Several of the guards had been 
knocked down and roughl}^ handled. One fellow, more 
combative than some of his comrades, brought his mus- 
11 



162 FIGHT WITH THE GUARD. 

ket to a guard and showed fight, but one of our party 
knocked him cold with a heavy bottle. The cowardly 
yelpers, who had ran to the gate and given the alarm, 
had spoiled our arrangements for getting away to the 
woods quietly, but I did not realize this at the time, so 
intent was I in performing my part at the front gate. 

I ran to a pile of loose brick, near the corner of the 
jail, and arming myself with these I ran for the fel- 
lows at the gate. They w^ould dodge back Avhen I 
would throw at them. I must have hurt one of them 
severely, and whether I had any assistance from any of 
our party I cannot tell. I knoAV I kept calling and 
waiting for them to come on, when, suddenly, I heard 
a familiar voice call my name. 

" Alf, come on, quick! the boys are getting over the 
fence at the back of the jail ; hurry up, for God's sake, 
for there's a company of guards coming double quick. 

This was my old comrade, Mark Wood, and his 
voice was the first warnino^ I had of the dang-er that 
threatened me, or of the necessary change in our pro- 
gramme. 

^'Then bounce that fence," I yelled to Mark, and, 
dropping my brick-bats, I also sprang for the fence, my 
feet scarcely touching the ground. We both reached 
the top of the high fence at the same instant, and not 
a second too soon, for as I glanced over my shoulder 
from the fence-top, I saw the guards with gleaming 
muskets pouring in at the gate, and before I could 
throw my leg over and spring off, a volley was fired, 
the balls rattling and whizzing all about us. One bullet 
struck the picket under my thigh, and so close that the 



THE ESCAPE. 163 

splinters lacerated my flesh, and as my feet struck the 
ground on the outside, I said to Mark, " I am hit." 

" Get up and run like h — 1, then ! " exclaimed Mark. 

I was on my feet in an instant, not knowing whether 
my thigh was shattered or not. As I ran I clapped my 
hand there to see if it bled freely. I pulled away a lot 
of splinters, and had the satisfaction of finding that I 
had received only a slight flesh wound made by the 
picket splinters. JS'ever did I make better use of my 
legs; there was need of it, too, for the balls Avere 
spatting about us in the dirt uncomfortably near. They 
came so thick and closel}^ at one time that I was almost 
certain that one or both of us would be hit ; but we 
answered their cries of "Halt! halt!" by springing 
forward with all the speed ^w^ could command. 

After having run a long distance in our flight, we 
passed Buffum, who had lost his hat in the attack 
and, now, bareheaded and with his eyes fairly starting 
out of his head Avith exertion, the poor fellow looked 
the very picture of a wild man. Wood had fallen 
behind me in the race, and I could hear Buffura cheer- 
ing and urging him to "pull into it" for dear life. "I 
can't run, but I can stop them ! Eun, Wood ! Keep 
on running, and never let up ! " Thus the brave fellow, 
completely fagged out, encouraged my partner, who 
still felt and showed the effects of his sickness. I was 
far enough ahead so that I had time to select the most 
favorable course for us to take to save distance and find 
the shelter of woods or thickets. 

It was about a mile before we struck the cover of 
woods, and then the trees were so scattering that they 
afforded only a doubtful place for concealment. It was 



164 THE PURSUIT. 

now every man for himself, and, like the Duke of Wel- 
lington at Waterloo, we longed for darkness or some 
other friendly interposition in our behalf. Wood had 
come up with me, and we dodged stealthily from one 
thicket to another until it began to grow quite dark, 
when we breathed easier and acted more deliberately, 
although we well knew we were not out of danger yet. 

About this time, we became aware that we were ap- 
proaching a public road. We soon had warning that 
it was much better to halt, and not attempt to cross 
the road. The sound of galloping horsemen in great 
numbers and the clanking of sabers could be heard near 
by. We were so nearly out of breath that we could run 
no farther for the present, and, on looking hastily 
about, we discovered a low, scrubby pine bush sur- 
rounded with shrubbery. We both darted under its 
protecting shelter and lay flat on the ground on our 
faces, neither having spoken a word to the other for 
some minutes, on account of our great exhaustion. We 
were so near the road that we could plainly see all the 
movements of the rebel cavalry, who were deploying 
their line something in the manner of skirmishers. 

This presented an unexpected difficulty in our way. 
If we had reached the road two minutes sooner we 
might have crossed without being seen, but we could 
not have been there an instant sooner than we were, 
unless we had had wings, for we had both run until we 
were ready to fall in our tracks. We had become sep- 
arated from the rest of the party, but we could still 
hear the reports of muskets, and knew that the pursuit 
was still going on, but how many of the escaping party 
had been killed was bevond our knowledge, though I 



CONCEALED. 165 

had seen Captain Fry reeling and stumbling in a man- 
ner that led me to fear he was shot. We were thus 
compelled to lie quietly for some time. AVhile we were 
waiting here, the cavalry was relieved by infantry, and 
the cavalry, as soon as relieved, formed into squads and 
started to scour the woods. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Eluding Pursuit — Crossing the Line of Rebel Guards — Physical 
Prostration — Discouraging Journey before Us — Paroxysm of 
Joy — Striking' Out for the Gulf — Hungry and Foot-sore — 

Crouching from the Sight of Men — The Intensity of our 
Afflictions — Bitter Reflections — On the Verge of Despair — 
We Reach the Chattahooche, and Hope Springs Up Anew — 
"We Find a Boat and are Soon Gliding Down the River 
Gulfward. 

" Strange — that where Nature lov'd to trace 
Aa if for gods, a dwelling place, 
There man, enaraor'd of distress, 
Should mar it into wilderness.'" 

IIE place where we lay was not over fifteen steps 
from where the infantry sentinel was stationed. 
We could hear every word he spoke to the man 
on the next post. Their comments on the affair at the 
jail would have been amusing to us under less serious 
circumstances, and I wish I could give their words 
exactly now, for they were ludicrous enough. In their 
opinion there was no sort of devilment that a " Yank " 
was not an adept in, from stealing a " nigger " or a 
railroad to breaking a jail, murdering peaceful citizens, 
and in various other ways defying the regulations and 
rights of the Southern people. They allowed that old 
Mitchell had picked out the off-scourings and most reck- 
less jail-breakers and pick-pockets in his army to send 
out on this thieving business, and that if any of the 

(166) 



CKOSSmG THE GUARD LINE. 167 

raiders were caught there would be no more foolish 
delay about hanging tiiera. 

Sometime late in the evening, while we were still 
lying under the bush, we became aware that some one 
was approaching us very quietly. In the dark we 
could recognize the dim outlines of two men, and we 
felt certain, as they came so near us that we could have 
almost touched them, that it was two of our comrades ; 
but we dare not even whisper to them lest we should 
cause them to betray themselves, and, perhaps, us too. 
They were, evidently, from the cautious manner in 
which they moved, aware that they were very close to 
the rebel guards. These men, I afterwards learned, 
were Porter and Wollam. 

After waiting a short time to see if they were dis- 
covered, and hearing nothing of them, we began to 
crawl out, concluding that there was no probability of 
the guards leaving that night. I should judge the 
sentries were stationed about thirty paces apart, and to 
get out, there was no alternative but to pass between 
them. I selected a place and crawled on my belly to 
the other side of the road safely, and then lay perfectly 
still, while Mark did the same. Mv hair fairlv stood on 
end as he wriggled along, for it seemed to me once or 
twice as if one of the sentries would certainly discover 
him before he would reach me. Fortunately, however, 
the guards were probably too drowsy, and had been on 
the alert so long that they became inattentive. This 
was one of our most narrow escapes. 

AVe were no more than safely across the road when 
a new and unseen obstacle, in the shape of a high fence, 
presented itself, over which we must climb before we 



lOS AWAY FOR LtBEKTY. 

could breathe free. We crawled carefully to the fence, 
and by great patience and much care, one at a time, 
managed to get over without attracting the attention of 
the guards. We felt as if we had accomplished quite 
an achievement, when at last w^e had escaped beyond 
the fence a few steps, and found ourselves in an open 
field, where we could push ahead noiselessly, and when, 
at last, we got away entirely out of hearing, we struck 
out on a full run. At the far side of the field we came 
to a smajl stream, in w^hich we traveled some distance 
in the w ater, to take precaution against pursuit by dogs. 
Soon after, wx struck a thick piece of woods on the 
slope of a hill-side, which Ave continued to ascend under 
the thick foliage for some time. But, at last, exhausted 
Nature asserted her full sw^ay, and we w^ere compelled 
to lie down and rest out of sheer inability to go further. 
Up to this time, I think, neither of us had spoken, 
no more than if we had been dumb. As we threw our- 
selves on the ground, without breath or strength to go 
further for the time being, w^e began to realize the 
weak, helpless condition we Avere in. We had been so 
long shut up, Tvithout exercise and half starved, that to 
our surprise we found we had but little strength. It 
did not appear as if our limbs were strong enough to 
carry us five miles a da}^ When we looked forward to 
the long journey ahead of us, the hunger and fatigue, 
it looked a little discouraging. I think, however, a 
portion of this sense of physical prostration was caused 
by the sudden relaxation from the great mental strain 
and excitement, which had been upon us from the time 
of the jail-break and immediately preceding it. This, 
with the intense exertion in running, in our enfeebled 



TEANSPOKT OF JOY. 169 

condition, had well nigh completely unnerved us. We 
were wild, too, almost, with joy at our escape. I could 
scarcely restrain myself from shouting at the top of my 
voice : 

^' Glory to God on High ! Free again ! Liberty I 
Liberty ! Praise God, from whom all blessings flow ! 
D — n the rebels! D — n the rebellion! D — n the 
slave-cursed Confederacy ! " 

We felt alternately paroxysms of anger and contri- 
tion, and I should have felt a sense of great relief and 
joy if I could have sung some good old familiar hymn 
of other days in thanks for our almost miraculous deliv- 
erance. 

Dear reader, if you have never been in prison as we 
had been, you can never feel the wild, almost childish 
joy that we miserable beings felt when we came to 
fully realize that we were once more free from our 
galling fetters ; free from the prison gloom ; free from 
the clutches of our inhuman captors, and that there 
was once more a prospect that we might again see our 
old flag, our old comrades, and the dear friends at 
home. 

But we had but little time to rest, rejoice or feel 
thankful in. We had to address ourselves to a more 
serious task. Many contingencies yet stood between 
us and the goal of our hopes. Many armed enemies ; 
many long, weary miles of travel; many rivers lay 
across our path, and many days of hunger and many 
sleepless nights, if we would succeed. 

Before we escaped from the prison and after we had 
determined on an escape, I studied over the subject 
of routes very carefully. I had seen enough of night 



170 STRIKING FOR THE GULF. 

travel in the mountains about Chattanooga and along 
the Tennessee Eiver, and well knew, that the probabil- 
ities of our being picked up, should we go in that direc- 
tion, would be very much greater. I, therefore, de- 
cided in my own mind that, in case I had the good for- 
tune to get away, I would strike out for the Gulf, and 
try to reach some of the vessels of the Federal bloclc- 
ading squadron. While this would be much the long- 
est route, the distance, as near as I could calculate, be- 
ing over three hundred miles, I thought there would be 
less vigilance and liability of pursuit in that direction. 
In this conjecture it turned out that I was correct. 
The country w^as entirely unknown to me, except a 
slight general idea I had of it from the school geogra- 
phies. I only knew that the waters of the Chattahoo- 
che River, w^hich flowed by west of Atlanta, entered 
the Gulf. 

While we rested on the hill-side, I communicated, in 
a W'hisper, to Mark my views, and he readily agreed 
that he would go in any direction I thought best. 
Accordingly, we rose up and walked to an open place 
where we could see the stars, and soon determined our 
course, which w^as to be slightly south of w^est, and at 
once we set out as fast as we could travel. We spoke 
no Avords as w^e walked on, and went as noiselessly as 
possible, for we were watchfully on the look-out for 
scouting parties of cavalrj-men that might be prowling 
about. 

We soon came to the railroad track leading from 
Atlanta to Columbus and knew from this that our 
course was about right. Our march led us through 
some rough country and we were compelled to halt and 



OUR JAIL-BIRD APPEARANCE. 171 

rest quite frequently, so that when it began to grow 
light in the east we estimated that we were about eight 
miles from the prison. We sought out a secluded 
retreat for the day, and after getting each of us a stout 
stick, which would answer either as a weapon or a 
w alking-stick, we lay down and slept until late in the 
afternoon. We woke up much rested, but were so 
lame and our feet were so sore that we could hardly 
take a step without excruciating pain. This was not to 
be wondered at, when our long confinement in prison 
and lack of exercise for weeks and months is consid- 
ered. We were hungry, and the scant}^ morsel of corn- 
bread we had brought from the prison the previous 
evening did not go far toward satisfying our sharp 
appetites. But it was all we had, and we ate it and 
were thankful, although we did not know where or 
when w^e would get our next rations. 

I now saw a difficulty in this attempt to get away 
that we did not encounter in our first attempt to reach 
the Federal lines. Our clothes had become dirty and 
ragged, and we had a sort of jail-bird look, that it seemed 
to me would betray us if we were seen. I was brought 
to a realization of this fact as I looked at Wood, when 
we sat together in silence beneatii the great tree where 
we had taken shelter, waiting for the friendly mantle 
of darkness to shield our movements. And I suppose 
my own appearance was no more prepossessing than 
his. The miserable garments he wore did not cover 
his nakedness. His face was begrimed with dirt almost 
set in the skin. lie had become thin and emaciated 
with fever, and had a ravenous appetite; his eyes were 
sunken in his head and seemed to have the wild, unnat- 



172 REFLECTIONS. 

ural glare of a madman, which, at times, ahiiost made 
me shudder. The poor fellow's pitiable appearance, as 
he sat there despondently and longingly gazing down 
on the beautiful valley below, was such as to appeal to 
a heart of stone. Yet I knew that it was unsafe for us 
to go to a house, and we agreed not to be seen by a 
human being if we could avoid it. I felt certain that 
if we should meet any one, our appearance would at 
once betray us. We were in a country where we could 
not expect to find a friend, unless, possibly, it might be 
the negroes, of whom, as a class, w^e knew but very 
little. We were so weak, and the mental strain and 
long-continued anxiety, in which we had lived from 
day to day, had had the effect of making us, I may 
say, foolishly suspicious and timid of everything. We 
Avere startled at every sudden noise, and crouched like 
sneaking wolves from the sight of man. 

As I sat there and beheld the sun receding behind 
the hills in the west, its long, resplendent rays lighting 
up the beautiful valley below us, which seemed to smile 
in peace and plenty, I could not but think how much 
the Creator had done to make his creatures happy and 
contented beings, and how much they on their part 
had done to make themselves miserable. Why was I a 
miserable, forsaken, hungry outcast, shunning the sight 
of my fellow baings in a civilizai, (?) Christian (?) land, 
which the. Creator had blessed with all the comforts 
necessary to the happiness of man? I could not help 
comparing our condition to that of Christian in " l>un- 
yan's Pilgrim's Progress," who, on his way to the Celes- 
tial City, came into the Yalley and Shadow of Death. 
We were not, it is true, like Christian, in a land of 



OUK LONG JOUKNEY. 173 

" deserts and drouth," neither did we meet " hobgoblins, 
satyrs, and dragons,'' yet we were beset by equally dis- 
agreeable enemies, and our condition was one of " unut- 
terable misery." We were not outlaws ; we had done 
no crime, unless trying to serve our country was a crime. 
I sometimes wondered, like Job of old, why my afflic- 
tions w^ere so great. 

But repining does a fellow no good, and I have some- 
times half questioned whether man's power of thought, 
reason, memory and reflection, really is so much of an 
advantage to him over the rest of the animal creation 
after all. If man had not these faculties he would not, 
at least, borrow trouble for the morrow, neither would 
he have the ingenuity and wickedness to persecute his 
fellow man, and turn that which an all-wise Creator 
made a paradise, into a place of torture and punishment. 

While in the midst of these unpleasant thoughts, 
Mark broke the long silence by raising his head and 
saying : 

" Alf , it is time for us to go." 

Our journey that night took us through a corn-field, 
where we pulled a few ears of corn and chewed it as we 
went along. I remember it was very hard and made 
m}^ jaws very tired, but it helped to quiet my gnawing 
hunger. It was much better than nothing. After a 
toilsome night's journey, guided by the stars, and over 
a very rough country, in which we entirely avoided 
roads, we again secreted ourselves as the streaks of 
gray began to appear in the east, and, after scraping up 
a pile of leaves, laid down for the day. When we 
awoke, late in the afternoon, we found that our feet 
were so bruised and sore, and that we were otherwise 



174 DRAGGING ALONG WITH PAIN. 

SO lame, and withal so weak from hunger, that it taxed 
our endurance to the utmost to take a single step. We 
each took from our pockets an ear of corn, and after 
crunching and swallowing what we could, we put the 
rest in our clothes and hobbled off, making but very 
slow time for the first mile or so. It was in the month 
of October, and the nights were pretty cool, which, in 
our poorly-clad condition, compelled us to keep moving 
all the time to keep comfortably warm. 

The next morning came and still w^e had not reached 
the river. Again we hid ourselves and slept through 
the day. When night came and we tried to walk, w^e 
found our feet in such a deplorable condition that it 
did not seem possible for us to go farther. They were 
blistered, galled and so feverish and swollen that it 
seemed as if they would burst with very pain at every 
step. 

It began to be a serious question whether we would 
not have to give up traveling, and as we started, poor 
Mark crawled some distance on his hands and knees, 
and, looking back at me, said in an appealing tone, 
'' Alf, what's a fellow's life but a curse to him when he 
has to drag it out in this way ? I would rather be dead 
and done with it." 

I encouraged him, telling him the worst was over 
and we would soon reach the river. I suppose we had 
shaped our course a little too far south and thus made 
the distance longer than it would otherwise have been. 
We struggled on for some time, sometimes crawling 
where the ground was stony, and stopping very often 
to temporarily quell the pain in our feet. I was a little 
ahead, and, as the breeze fanned my aching temples, 



ARRIVE AT THE CHATTAHOOCHE. 175 

I thought I heard to our right the lull of running water. 
I told Mark, and cheered him up. AVe forgot our tor- 
tures for the time being and scrambled on quite lively, 
and soon after had the satisfaction of standing on the 
banks of the Chattahooche. 

De Soto did not feel more joy when he first discov- 
ered the Mississippi, the great Father of AYatei*s, nor 
w^as the ecstacy of Balboa greater, when, from the 
cloud-capped summits of Darien, his eyes first beheld 
the vast expanse of water Avhich he named the Pacific 
Ocean. Like that great discoverer, we waded out into 
the w^ater, carrying neither naked sword nor the ban- 
ner of our country like he, to take possession of our 
discovery in the name of our rulers, but to bathe our 
painful feet and cool our parched throats. 

We both felt that we had gone as far as we could. 
Wood had been crawling on his hands and knees much 
of the time to spare his aching feet, while my condition 
was but little better. It did not seem to me that we 
could have gone a mile farther, but the discovery of 
the river inspired us with new" hope. We sat down and 
chew^ed some more of our corn and rejoiced at our good 
fortune. We had left the. Atlanta prison and gallows 
far behind. We w^ere by waters that led to the great 
ocean, hundreds of miles away, where we might find 
friends and see the old flag once miore. 

I now felt like shoutir.g for joy at the bright pros- 
pect before us. But our style of traveling did not 
admit of any noisy demonstration. We were rather 
imitating the peculiar traits of such night prowlei^as 
the wolf and his sly congener, the fox. We made cer- 
tain of the direction the river current ran, and started 



176 GLIDING DOWN THE RIVER, 

southward in high hopes, although the temptation to 
go northward to our friends was very strong. A7e now 
wanted a boat, and, not long after w^e started, fortune 
had another pleasant surprise in store for us, for we 
came upon a skiff safely moored, with lock and chain, 
to a tree. After carefully inspecting the surroundings, 
to see that no prying eyes were peering on us, we 
"loosened" the lock with a stone, and in a few minutes 
after w^ere smoothly gliding dow^n the current of the 
great river, and I doubt if two more joyful mortals 
ever navigated a canoe than we two, with that stolen 
little craft. 

What a happy change ! Our weary limbs and pain- 
ful feet now had a rest, and yet we were gliding noise- 
lessly on our journey. "What w^onderful teachers hard- 
ship and stern necessity are! Discontented mortals do 
not half appreciate the blessings they have until they 
have been pupils in the school of adversity. I felt as if 
this chilly night's ride, in a little stolen boat, in a 
strange river, whose shores were hidden by Plutonian 
shadows, was the best and most grateful that I ever 
liad, or ever expected to enjoy. 

We pulled off our old boots and bathed our lacerated 
feet in the "water, and quenched the tormenting thirst 
caused by the indigestible hard corn, which was now 
our only nourishment. We kept our paddles pretty 
busy, as we wished to get as far away as possible from 
where we took the boat, before the daw^n of day. When 
daylight began to appear, w^e paddled our craft into a 
bayou, safe from view, and secreted ourselves in a 
thicket for the day. 



CHAPTER XIY. 

The Pangs of Hunger — Visions of Feasting — "We Must Have 
Food — Visit a Rebel Planter's House — Get a Good Meal — 
Hearing the News from Atlanta — How the Desperate Train- 
Thieves Broke Jail — A Tumble in the River — Maik Gets to 
**the End of the River" — A Mysterious Noise — Reckless 
Run Over a !Mill-Dam — Narrow Escape amid Foaming, 
Dashing Waters and Rocky Gorges — Mark Falls in the 
River — A Toilsome Land Journey of Three Days and Nights 
— Passing Columbus — The Rebel Ram Chattahooche — Cap- 
ture Another Boat — Soon Exchange It for a Better One — 
Pursued by Its Owners — How We Escape Them and Sweep 
Down the Broad River — Feeding on Com and Pumpkin 
Seeds — Mosquitoes, Snakes and Alligators. 

^UOJJR days and nights had now passed suice we had 
^M eaten food, except the morsel of corn-bread we 
^§ brought out of the prison, and the hard corn, 
which, with the copious use of river water, was begin- 
ning to cause great distress in our stomachs, which 
only added to the unpleasant pangs of hunger. We 
laid down to sleep the day away, but between our great 
hunger and the swarms of mosquitoes we could get 
but little rest. I could, while sleeping, see in my 
dreams, tables spread and groaning with loads of good 
things to eat; bread, meat, cheese, coffee, biscuit and 
butter were all within my reach, and Avere vanishing 
before my ravenous appetite, when in the midst of the 
great pleasures of this feast, I would suddenly Vv^aken 
13 (177) 



178 AFTER FOOD 

to a sense of the reality of the case, and ^vhat a mad- 
dening disappointment I would feel. AVith this dis- 
turbed sort of rest we worried through the day, the 
demands of hunger and our stomachs getting the better 
of Nature's demand for rest, until at last we grew des- 
perate, and at early twilight, in the evening, pulled out 
of the little bayou, determined on a raid of some sort, 
on a house for food, peaceable, if possible, forcible, if 
necessary. 

At last, and before it grew too dark, we spied a 
house some distance from the river bank, which Ave 
thought, from appearances, we could capture with a 
plausible story, or by force, so we leisurely concealed 
our boat, and, in order to let it get quite dark, delayed 
our visit until a little later in the evening. 

On approaching the house, we saw in its immediate 
vicinity quite a number of negro cabins, and in the 
yard surrounding the house, about twenty blood-hounds 
chained to the fence, indicating that these vrere the 
premises of an extensive planter. The only occupants 
of the house were an old man and woman. We apol- 
oo-ized for disturbino^ them and told them we were sol- 
diers Avho had been on furloughs returning to our regi- 
ments at Atlanta, and wished directions to the ferry 
( we had discovered a ferry as we came down ) ; also, 
that we were hungry and wanted to get something to 
eat, provided they felt like feeding hungry soldiers 
without money, as we had had no pay for some time, and 
were both moneyless and in bad health, Mark's appear- 
ance proving this latter assertion. It Avas quite dark, 
however, and they could not see us very distinctlj^, but 
they evidently credited our story, for they told us to 



NEWS FROM ATLANTA. 17^ 

be seated and we w^ould soon be made welcome to such 
food as they had. 

They were a couple of quite inteUigent, but unsophis- 
ticated old people, in comfortable circumstances, living, 
as most Southerners did, away from any highway, andt 
we gained their confidence so far as to feel ourselves 
assured from suspicion. I had been in Dixie so long 
that I had acquired, from the guards and citizens, their 
vernacular of speech quite perfectly; besides this, Ava- 
had learned the names of officers and the number of 
different regiments, such as the Eighth Georgia cavalryy 
Fifth Tennessee infantry, etc., until we were able ta 
tell quite a plausible story, if not too closely questioned. 

We asked the old man if there was any late news ; 
he said, *' Nothing, excei)t that the Yankee raiders had 
seized the Atlanta jailer, overpowered the guards, and 
a number of them escaped and had not yet been^- 
caugbt." We expressed great surprise that such a 
piece of audacity could be made successful in Atlanta. 
The old man said " They were a desperate, dangerous lot 
of scoundrels, w^ho ought to have been hung long ago." 
He said many of them stood up and fought the soldiers 
with clubs and brick, even after the guards had shot 
them through, and finally they jumped the high fence- 
and run like deer. 

He expressed his doubts about the South being able- 
to beat back such a reckless band of robbers and free- 
booters as were swarming down from the Yankee coun- 
try. He said all the worst class of low-down thieves 
and the scum of all the great cities of the I^orth were 
hired to come down and take part against the South. 
We assured him that it would all come out right in the 



180 JEKKED INTO TIIK KIVER. 

endj and the South would triumph ; that one Southern 
man could whip five "Yanks" any day, and that there 
was no doubt of the final result. 

In the meantime, we had devoured everthing the 
good woman had set before us on the table. We were 
ashamed, but our hunger was so much stronger than 
our sense of shame that we could not leave off, and if we 
had not been in a hurry, we would have waited for her 
to have prepared another meal for us. She said she 
reo-retted that she had not more cooked to set before 
\is, but w^e told her she had been very kind and thanked 
them, at the same time bidding them good night, when 
Ave started off, as they supposed, for the ferry. A short 
time afterward we were in our boat pulling down 
stream with more vigorous energy than we had before. 
AVe kept up a steady stroke of the paddles for some 
hours, feeling that each stroke placed so much more 
distance between us and the prison. 

"While we were thus moving along with steady, cau- 
tious stroke, high in the hopes of the future, I suddenly, 
quicker than a flash, found myself lying flat on my 
back in the river. "What on earth had happened I did 
not know, the accident had been so sudden. I thought 
of earthquakes, whales, sharks, torpedoes and many 
other things. Luckily, one of my feet caught on the 
side of the boat, and I drifted with it until Mark came 
to my assistance and pulled me out. The cause of my 
mishap had been a ferry-boat wire, which was stretched 
across the river, and hung just low enough to catch me 
fairly as I sat in the stern of the boat. It struck Mark, 
but he sat in the middle and fell into the bottom of the 
boat. We were going at a good speed, and the collision 



"end of the eiver." 181 

came so suddenly, that it is a wonder we did not fare 
worse. Fortunately, there were no guards at the ferry* 
so ^Ye had no cause to apprehend discovery or molesta- 
tion. My greatest mishap was a thorough wetting, for 
the night was frosty and cold and caused me to chilL 

This was followed in the after part of the night by a 
stupor that I could not shake otf, and my continued 
efforts at the paddle had well nigh exhausted me. 
Mark could not manage the boat very Avell, as he had 
tried it a number of times. But I felt that I must have 
rest and sleep, and so gave the boat over into his hands, 
enjoining him to keep it in the current. I laid down 
in the bottom of the boat, and soon sank into a state 
of forgetfulness and sleep. I do not know how long I 
had slept, but, some time in the night, Mark aroused 
me, and told me we could go no further, as we had 
come '' to the end of the river." It was some time be- 
fore he could awaken me fully to consciousness, so that 
I could comprehend our situation. 

At last I began to look around, to determine what 
Mark's "end of the river" meant. I soon discovered 
that he had run the boat away under a ledge of the 
mountain, and a dim light could only be seen in one 
direction. All else around us was impenetrable dark- 
ness. I took the paddle and worked the boat in the 
direction of the light, and in a little while we emerged 
from beneath this overhanging mountain ledge, and 
asrain reached the current of the river, down which the 
boat was soon rapidly gliding. Mark now discovered 
that the " end of the river " had not yet been reached, 
but he did not care to take charge of the boat again. 

I have omitted to mention a matter, unimportant to 



182 A MYSTERIOUS NOISE. 

my story, although it shows how suspicious a fellow 
may become, when he imagines that every strange 
sound he hears may proceed from a lurking, pursuing 
enem}^ Nearly the whole time, from the place where 
we began our boat journey, we seemed to be followed. 
At irregular intervals through the night, we would 
hear a noise in the water, always about the same dis- 
tance behind us, which sounded precisely as if a large 
stone had suddenly fallen from a great height into the 
river. The noise never came much nearer, and never 
varied but little in distance, and always seemed to be 
just behind us. AYe were wholly unable to account for 
it, and we were thus somewhat vexed because we could 
not solve the mystery. Finally, one evening, as we 
:Started into the current from our hiding-place, and 
while it was yet quite light, we saw a good-sized 
^animal swimming not far from us, and pretty 
50on it plunged under the water, making the 
identical mysterious noise we had heard. It followed, 
;at least it seemed to be the same one, in our wake until 
we reached the rapids of the river above Columbus, 
cafter which we heard it no more. To this day I have 
not the remotest idea as to what kind of creature it was. 
Shortly after this adventure, we perceived that we 
were not to have as smooth sailing all the way. The 
river began to grow rough, and the water ran over 
benches and ledges of rocks, and, in places, with great 
velocity, so much so that we narrowly escaped being 
■** broken up," on several occasions during this night's 
journey. We passed over a number of places that we 
would not have dared to risk in daylight, when we 
fcould have seen the danger. It seemed to grow worse 



EECKLESS ETDE OVER A DAM. 183 

and worse as we went on, when daylight warned us 
that it was time to tie up and hide, which we did, and, 
the day being warm and pleasant, we had a comforta- 
ble rest — the best since our escape. 

On the following night we came to a mill-dam, where 
the water, judging from the noise, poured over in great 
volume and force. We maneuvered around for some 
time above it, not knowing what to do, but finally dis- 
covered what appeared to be an apron, near the center 
of the dam, and decided to risk running it. Accord- 
ingly, we rowed up stream some distance to get under 
good headway, then turning the head of the boat down 
stream, we bent to our paddles with all our might. 
We came down with the velocity of an express-train. 
What we supposed might have been an apron, was 
nothing but a break in the dam, and over it vre shot 
like an arrow, shutting our eyes and holding our breath. 
In an instant after, we landed (luckily right side up), 
away below, in the midst of the angry, foaming torrent, 
and pl3ang our paddles right vigorously and keeping 
the bow of our boat down stream, we rode out safely, 
but then and there " swore off " on running mill-dams 
in the night. 

We continued our journey, though the river was still 
rough and growing worse. We were constantly among 
rocks and foaming, headlong torrents of water, while 
steep rocky walls confined the stream to very narrow 
limits, and dark, shadowy mountain peaks loomed up 
in the back-ground, reminding us of the Tennessee 
about Cliattanooga. We went on from bad to worse, 
until at last, during the latter part of the night, we 
were incautiously drawn into a gorge, where, it seemed, 



184 MARK S MISHAP. 

that the destruction of our boat was inevitable. Such 
was the force and velocity of the water, that we lost 
all control of the boat, and, in one instant would be 
spinning around in a furious eddy until our heads were 
fairly dizzy, and in the next, we would be dashed 
against the rocks, until it seemed as if our boat would 
be splintered to pieces. AVe regarded our escape here 
as the narrowest we had made, and as quick as we 
could do so with safety, we landed on the rocks, and, 
with many regrets, abandoned our little craft, to begin 
a tedious, toilsome land journey of three days and 
nights, over rocky lulls, bluffs and mountains along the 
river. 

Just as we had landed the boat, Mark started to walk 
out, and, losing his balance, fell headlong into the 
river. With considerable difficulty I fished him out as 
soon as possible, and the early morning being quite 
cool, the poor fellow was chilled through and through, 
and it was with the greatest difficulty that 1 finally 
succeeded in getting him up into the mountains, and 
continued to exercise him by walking, so as to get up a 
good circulation of his blood. But he became so 
benumbed that I finally let him lie down, and gathered 
a lot of cedar boughs and piled them thickly over him, 
and then crawled in with him myself, and kept him as 
warm as possible. Here we slept and rested until late 
in the afternoon of that day, which became very warm 
under the bright rays of the sun. 

This fall in the river was only one instance of Mark's 
exhausted condition during our journey doAvn the Chat- 
tahooche. He would often stagger and reel about as a 
man who is stupefied with liquor, and at times he 



ALMOST READY TO GIVE UP. 1S5 



seemed to be almost blind, so that I was constmtl}^ on 
the watch, and oftentimes had to lead him by the hand 
and care for him as for a child. 

Our progress was very slow, and, towards the last, 
extremely painful. The old bruises and blisters on our 
feet, Vvhich were not entirely healed, came back worse 
than ever, and much of the time we crept along on the 
rocks on our hands and knees, believing that if once we 
could get below this range of mountains, we would 
iind navigable waters. We came in sight of several 
isolated cabins in these wild, rocky hills, where we 
managed to beg a little food on two different occasions, 
which helped us very much, for we were getting so 
weak that we could scarcely go five miles a day. The 
suffering Ave endured on our last night's travel, I can- 
not describe. It seemed as if we must give up, and die 
were w^e were. But at last, when daylight came, to 
our great delight, we saw the spires and smoke stacks 
of a town in the distance. "We knew this to be Colum- 
bus, Georgia, and that when we got below it, the river 
was navigable clear to the Gulf. 

"VYe now deemed it prudent to hide ourselves for the 
day, w^hich we had not done in the mountains, and 
wait for the friendlv cloak of darkness. When nici:ht 
came, we made a long, careful detour, away out around 
the suburbs of the town, and at last had the satisfac- 
tion of again reaching the river bank, below the town, 
where we found good shelter among the dense grape- 
vines and drift-wood. By this time it vras nearly morn- 
ing again, and, like beasts of prey, we betook ourselves 
to a safe hiding-place. 

During all the time we had been in the vicinity of 



186 THE KEBEL RAM CIIATTAIIOOCHE, 

the town, we had heard a constant, clattering sound, as 
of a hundred workmen with hammers. This noise 
came from near the river, where there appeared also to 
be a great light. When daylight came the noise still 
continued, and we were near enough so that we could 
see that it was caused by a large number of workmen, 
engaged on a vessel, w^hich they were covering with 
iron. The boat appeared to be very laro^e and of great 
strength, and evidently Avas intended for a warlike 
purpose. On closer inspection, the following night, I 
found that she was a powerfull3^-built gunboat, which 
they were evidently in great haste to complete, as the 
hammers of the workmen never ceased on her, night or 
day, nor for a single moment. 

This gunboat was none other than the rebel ram 
Chattahooche, a formidable iron monster, built as an 
engine of destruction for the blockading fleet in Appa- 
lachicola Bay. The first knowledge the Navy Depart- 
ment had of her was through Wood and myself. The 
ram, on her first downward trip, blew up, near the 
mouth of Flint Eiver, and never reached the Gulf. 

Our great anxiety now was to secure a boat. Wood 
w^as so lame he could not walk, and I was not much 
better. This delayed us here two days and nights. 
During the nights, I was prowling about, up and down, 
trying to discover some sort of a craft that would float. 
In my reconnoitering about the gun-boat, I had dis- 
covered an old skiff chained to a stump, quite near and 
in plain siglit of the workmen, to some of whom, no 
doubt, it belonged. I secured a stout stick for a lever, 
and crept to the stump to which the boat was chained, 
wdien, watching my opportunity, I got a pry in such a 



GETTING AWAY WITH A BOAT. 187 

manner as to break the lock on the chain. The lights 
shone so brightly that I could plainly see the men's 
eyes, and I very much feared they would notice me. 
However, I worked off with the boat carefully, and 
half an hour after, I had Mark aboard and Ave were 
pulling rapidly down stream. We found our prize to 
be a leaky old concern, and one of us was constantly 
busy keeping her bailed out. 

After we had drifted doAvn some miles, we spied three 
boats tied to the shore on the Alabama side of the river, 
and as we had been giving our attention entirely to the 
Georgians all along, we concluded to trade boats on that 
side of the river, provided we could secure a better boat. 
Just as we had got loosened the one w^e selected, three 
men with a pack of dogs were coming down the hill 
toward us, and the head man, evidently the owner, 
began hallooing to us and calling us slanderous names, 
such as thieves and the like. We did not stop to bandy 
words with the fellows, but speedily shoved all the 
boats into the river, and took a course up the river, 
as though we w^ere going toward Columbus. They 
rent the air with curses upon our heads. In the course 
of fifteen or twenty minutes, they had secured the boats 
we shoved into the stream, and with the lights they 
carried, we could distinctly see that they were bent on 
pursuing us. We took a wide circuit, and then headed 
downward under cover of the willows, behind several 
small islands near the Georgia shore, and came out in 
the main stream far below the islands, while we had 
the satisfaction of seeing the lights of our pursuers dis- 
appearing up the river, and prowling about the upper 
end of the islands, which we were now leaving far 



188 TiJE PANGS OF IIUNGEK. 

behind ns. AYe soon lost sight of them, and the strong 
presumption is that they never succeeded in findinp^ their 
boat. 

We increased our speed to the utmost, and kept under 
the shadows of the wooded shores as much as possible, 
cono-ratulatino: each other on our hickv boat trade. 
With a good boat and an open river Ave felt now that 
our chances of escape were exceedingly good, and our 
spirits were buoyant and hopes high, although our 
stomachs were craving food. We were on the verge 
of starvation all the time, for we had eaten food only 
three times, not counting the corn and morsel of bread, 
since w^e started, although we had been traveling every 
night, and, in the mountains, both day and night. 

When I look back and think of those long, painful, 
hungry nights and days, I wonder how it was possible 
that we kept up. I do not think I could withstand the 
same deprivation again, although a man does not 
know what he can endure until he tries it. I believe 
a human being can endure greater hardships and longer- 
continued suffering than any other animal. Hunger 
was now our main dread. We felt that our paddles 
and the stiff current of the river were good for fifty 
miles each night, ]n^ovided we could keep from starving. 
To be sure, we were used to fasting ; indeed, for months 
not a day had passed that we had not felt the pinching 
distress of an unsatisfied longing for food. But on we 
swept, hour after hour, down the broad river, happy in 
the thought that we were fast placing scores of miles 
between us and the hated prison. The rest given our 
feet had much allayed the pain we had suffered, and 
when morning came and we had secreted ourselves for 



THE DISMAL CHATTAHOOCHE, 189 

the day, ^ve slept TS'ell, but awoke in the afternoon 
ravenously desperate for want of something to eat. 

We went out, and, reconnoitering a little, discovered 
a corn-field. Making sure that there was no one about, 
Ave stole into the field and found plenty of corn and 
pumpkins. Tlie hard corn and river water did not go 
well together, and proved to be an unpleasant diet to 
us, so we broke up the pumpkins, ate freely of tlie seed, 
and filled our pockets with more for lunch, each of us 
taking also a few ears of corn. By the time we got 
back, it was nearly dark, and we pulled out. The 
pumpkin-seed diet, poor as it was, helped us wonder- 
fully, and Vv^e made a big night's journe}^, passing a 
steamboat upward bound, Avhich we dodged by pulling 
under the shadows of the timber and low-hanging 
bushes. 

Thus we progressed, traveling by boat at night, and 
laying by in the daytime. If any reader of this stor}^ 
has ever made a trip on the lower end of the Chatta- 
hooche Eiver, I think be or she will agree with me 
when I say that the river scenery is peculiarly monoto- 
nous, and causes a sense of loneliness. It is a vast 
water-path through dense forests of cypress and other 
swamp-growing timber. On either side, to the right 
and left, were endless swamps covered with water, and 
the river channel was only observable by its being free 
from logs and gigantic trees. Great festoons of gra}^ 
and sombre moss hung suspended from even the top- 
most limbs of these trees, reaching clear down to the 
water, and floated and swung to the music of the sigh- 
ing winds. Perhaps it was the circumstances in our 
case that made us feel so, but I remember it as a dis- 



100 MOSQUITOES, SXAKE3 AND ALLIGATOIiS. 

mal, lonesome journey. Sometimes we would not see a 
sign of civilization for forty-eight hours at a stretch. 

Besides the torments of hunger, our nights w^ere 
made almost unendurable hy the swarms of blood- 
thirsty mosquitoes, which came upon us in clouds. I 
did think that I had learned considerable about mos- 
quitoes in my boyhood days, in the Black Swamp of 
i^or til western Ohio, but for numbers, vocal powers and 
ferocity, I will "trot" the Chattahooche swamp fellows 
out against any others I have ever '' met up with." 
The ragged clothing, v^hicli yet clung to our backs, did 
not much more than half cover us ; especial!}^ was this the 
case with Wood, who was, I may truthfully say, half 
naked, and w^as thus doubly annoyed by the omnipres- 
ent '^ skeeters." And my own condition was but little 
better. To protect ourselves from the pests, we 
thatched our bodies all over with great skeins of moss, 
and two more comical-looking beings than we were, thus 
rio-o-ed out, it would be hard to find, but it baffled the 
bills of our tormentors. 

YIg had two other annoyances — moccasin snakes and 
alli""ators. The latter, with which the water sw^armed 
as we went further toward the Gulf, were a terror to 
me. They were a ferocious, hungry, dangerous-looking 
beast at best. We knew but little of their habits. The 
largest water inhabitant I had ever seen was a Maumee 
River catfish, and the most dangerous, a Bhick-Swamp 
raassasauger. Night or day, these ''gators," as the 
Southern negroes call them, like the mosquitoes, were 
always within sight and hearing. Sometimes, during 
the day, in order to keep out of the water, we would 
take shelter in a pile of drift-wood. Wlien we would 



HABITS OF THE ALLIGATOR. 101 

; 

wake up, after a short nap, every old log and hommock 
about us would be covered with " gators." They would 
lay listlessly and lazily, with eyes almost shut, looking 
hungrily and quizzically out of one corner of their 
wicked peepers, as if waiting for us to leave, or for a 
chance to nab one of us bv the leo^ or arm and run. 
Mark grew superstitious of these creatures. He said 
he had read of wolves following a famished buffalo in 
the same manner, and that sharks would hover around 
a ship from which a corpse was to be cast overboard, 
and that, too, even days before death had occurred or 
was even suspected by the sailors. But the "gators" 
were co\vardly fellows, and, on the least demonstration 
on our part, would scramble into the v/ater. Still, we 
feared they might steal upon and lay hold of us with 
their powerful jaws while Ave were asleep. We had 
learned that they were not apt to attack, except when 
the object of their voracious appetites lay quiet, but, 
when once they did lay hold, that they were hard to 
beat off. They will drag their victim, be it man or 
beast, instantly under the water, where the struggle 
soon ends. 



CIIAPTEE XV. 

Again Go After a Meal — In Our Absence Our Boat is Stolen — 
Our Feelings of Despair — A Night of Gloom — Dangerous 
Method of Securing Another Boat — Complete Success, and 
We Go on Our Way Rejoicing — A Feast on Raw Cat-fish 
and Com — Mark Wood's Famished, Frenzied Condition — 
Nearing the Gulf — Appalachicola — Visit a House to Light 
My Pipe and Get Information — A Royal Feast on Cooked 
Fish and Roasted Sweet Potatoes — Going Down the Bay — 
Looking for the Blockading Fleet — Going through an Oyster 
^ed — The Federal Fleet in the Distance — Thrilling, Raptur- 
ous Sight— We See the Old Flag Once More. 

"Haill sftarry emblem of the free!" 

'E were now journeying in a place where our 
means of getting food were poor indeed, for there 
was no food. After enduring hunger as long as 
we possibly could, we were finally forced a second time, 
shice leaving Columbus, to go in search of something 
to eat. This, I think, was about five or ten miles 
above Chattahooche landing. It is not necessary to 
relate the particulars of our search for a human habit- 
ation and the story of deception we told. It was a 
little before dark, when we struck out on foot, so weak, 
hungry and faint that we could not walk many steps 
without resting, in search of something or anything we 
could devour. AYe were successful, or partially so, at 
least, and ca ne back safely, much strengthened, as well 
as elated over our good lack, when, to our great dismay 

a32) 




LEFT WITHOUT A BOAT. 193 

and chagrin, we found that our boat had been stolen 
during our absence. 

It was evident some one had seen us land and watched 
until we left, and then taken the boat. I cannot de- 
scribe our feelings. We scarcely knew what to do. 
The night was very dark, and it rained incessantly. 
We waded about in the water, tall grass and cane, and 
after a while found a little mound or hommock, which 
projected above the water, and on which we perched 
ourselves for the night. Such a dismal, long, rainy 
night as it was, too ! It did seem as if the mosquitoes 
would carry us away piecemeal towards morning, when 
the rain had ceased. Had it not been for the food we 
had eaten, I believe we would have given up in despair. 
When morning came, we waded up and down in the 
cane and grass all forenoon, and about the only discov- 
ery we made, was that another river came in just below 
us and we could not go further without a boat. 

During the afternoon I descried something on the 
far side of the river that looked like a boat partly sunk 
in the water, one end only of which was out. The next 
trouble was to get to it, as the river was about three- 
quarters of a mile w^de, as near as we could judge. 
We found an old piece of plank, which we lashed on 
three fiat rails with a grape-vine, and with a piece of 
narrow stave for a paddle and to fight off " gators," 
I twined my legs firmly around the center of the frail 
craft, while Mark pushed it off into the stream and stood 
at the edge of the grass watching me. The raft sunk 
down until the water came about my waist, but I stuck 
to it, and after about an hour's hard work, I effected a 
landing on the far side, and, not long after, found my- 
13 



194: ON OUR JOUENEY AGAIN. 

self rewarded in the possession of a much better boat 
than the one we had lost the night before. I was not 
long in bailing out the water and rowing her back to 
where Mark was, whose gratitute found expression in 
tears and hearty hand-shaking, as he crept into the 
boat with me. 

We now plied our paddles energetically for a while, 
until we felt sure we had passed out of reach of the 
owners of the boat, when we put into the cane and 
secreted ourselves until night. After this mishap in 
losing our boat, we resolved that we would not both 
leave again while our journey lasted, starve or no 
starve. During the following day, while we were laid 
up waiting for night and fighting mosquitoes, I went 
out, skulking about to see v/hat I could see, and in 
passing through an old field found some fish-hooks and 
lines in an old vacant cabin. I appropriated them, and 
we found them a godsend to us, for they proved tlio 
means of keeping us from actual starvation. 

The country, from the point where we then wore, on 
both sides of the river, nearly to the gulf, seeme<:l to 
be but one endless expanse of swamp, with scarcely a 
human inhabitant, or, indeed, any spot or place where 
a human could make a permanent home. It was the 
most forsaken, desolate country of all we had seen. 
We could find nothing, not even corn, to subsist on 
now ; but we had quite a fair supply tied in bark and 
dragging after us in the water, that it might soak soft 
and be a little more palatable. The effects of this raw 
corn on us had been very bad. Our stomachs had 
become feverish, and it caused sharp pain and some 
ailment akin to cholera-morbus. 



SUBSISTING ON RAW CAT-FISH. 195 

We must have had a touch of scurvy, for our mouths 
and gums had become feverish, and our teeth were 
loose, and would bleed constantly when we attempted 
to chew the corn. This was the condition we were in 
when, providentially, we became possessed of the fish- 
hooks and lines. 

And now for a feast on raw cat-fish, of which we 
caught a plentiful sup])ly as we journeyed on in the 
night. I have previously neglected to mention that I 
had with me an old one-bladed knife without any back, 
which was our only weapon, defensive or offensive. 
This old knife I had secreted Avhen we were in the 
Atlanta prison, and had kept it with me as a precious 
treasure durino^ all our wanderinors. With this knife 
and our fingers, we managed to skin and dress the fish, 
which we ate raw with our soaked corn. Matches, we 
had none, nor had we been able to get any, and so we 
had no fire. I could eat only a mouthful or two of the 
raw fish at a time. My stomach was weak and fever- 
ish, and rebelled against the llesh. Still it tasted 
palatable. 

Mark, poor, hungry fellow, tore it from the bones in 
great mouthfuls, like a ravenous wolf, until I would 
beg of him to desist, fearing the results, lie would 
set and crunch the bloody flesh, and look at me with a 
wild, strange stare, and never speak a word. Ilis eyes 
were sunken away in his head, almost out of sight, and 
as he would seize a fresh piece, the pupils of his eyes 
would dilate with the gloating, ferocious expression of 
a panther or other carniverous wild beast. I had fre- 
quently heard of men losing their reason and going 
mad from the effects of protracted hunger, and I some- 



196 NEARING APPALACHICOLA. 

times shuddered as I looked at its telling effects on 
poor Mark's wasted frame, and the unnatural glare of 
his eyes. He would mutter and groan in his sleep, and 
sometimes scream out as if pierced by a knife, when he 
would suddenly start up and call my name. Toward 
the last of our journey his condition was, much of the 
time, a cause of great anxiety to me. Still, after we began 
to eat the fish, he seemed much better, and I only feared 
the unnatural quantities of the raw flesh he ate would 
kill him. 

The reader w^ho enjoys three regular meals each day, 
can better understand our condition when I state that 
from the time we left the mountains above Columbus, 
to the time of which I am now speaking, w^here we 
found the fishing-tackle, a period of nearly two wrecks, 
we had eaten but four meals, aside from the stuff we 
had picked up, such as raw pumpkins, corn, roots and 
pumpkin-seed, all of which we obtained in very limited 
quantities. 

"We w^ere now nearing the bay, as was plain to be 
seen, for on each succeeding morning the river had 
grown wider. Finally w^e became well satisfied that 
we were nearing a large town, which afterwards 
proved to be Appalachicola, and this made us anxious 
to learn something of the state of affairs below — 
whether there were rebel picket-boats, or obstructions, 
such as torpedo-boats and the like. 

About this time we discovered a cabin some distance 
from the shore, and, to have a plausible excuse, I took 
an old pipe Mark had, and filled it with a few crumbs 
of tobacco, w4iich I fished from my old coat-linings, 
and then, taking a piece of rotten wood, which would 



A EIGHT KOYAL FEAST. 197 

retain fire, I left Mark vrith tlie boat and walked over 
to the house to get a light for my pipe. The occupants 
of the cabin proved to be an old Scotchman and his 
wife. He was very inquisitive, and asked more ques- 
tions than I cared to answer. But I managed to evade 
suspicion, and at the same time gained considerable 
information. I learned that we were about five miles 
above Appalachicola, and that the Federal blockading 
squadron was stationed at the mouth of the bay, eigh- 
teen miles below the city. I hurried back to the boat, 
and found Mark rejoicing over a little armful of sweet- 
potatoes he had stolen from a negro's canoe, which he 
had discovered in my absence. 

We got into the boat and at once paddled to the 
other side of the bo.y or river, where we entered into 
an inlet or creek, up which we ran for some distance, 
when we came to a dense cane-brake. Here we secreted 
ourselves and built a little fire, roasted fish and pota- 
toes, parched corn, and dined in right royal style, 
although we felt the need of a little salt. Two hungry 
wolves never ate m.ore ravenously than we did, although 
we were obliged to restrain ourselves, and leave off 
while yet hungry. It was with the utmost difficulty 
that I absolutely forced Mark to quit. After eating 
enough for four men, as I thought, he still begged for 
more. I finally induced him to go to sleep, and stored 
away some of the cooked fish and sweet potatoes for 
the next day. 

The information we had gained was invaluable to us, 
although I felt I had obtained it at some risk. When night 
came on, w^e pulled out and passed down on the oppo- 
site side of the bay from the city, slowly and cautiously. 



198 A SCHOOL OF MONSTROUS FISH. 

We had moss in the bottom, on the sides and in the 
seats of our boat for our comfort. As soon as we had 
gone well past the city, whose bright lights we could 
plainly see, we crossed the bay to the city side below 
the city, in the hope of finding a more sea- worthy boat. 
We were unable to find any other boat, however, and 
pulled on down the bay as fast as we could. While 
going down the bay that evening, Ave ran along in the 
midst of a large school of huge fish of some descrip- 
tion, from which we apprehended danger every instant. 
These monsters would swim along on all sides of us, 
with great fins sticking more than a foot out of the 
water, and extended like a great fan. They would fre- 
quently whisk their fish-shaped tails above the water, 
wiiich seemed to be as much as three to four feet across 
from tip to tip. One of these fish could easily have 
wrecked our boat with its huge body. I have never 
been able to learn to what class these finny monsters 
belonged. We hoped to reach the blockading fleet 
before daylight, but the night grew cloud}' and we 
were unable to tell what course we were running, as 
the bay grew wider and wider as we went out. We 
decided the best thing we could do was to pull for 
land, which we reached after midnight, prettv well ex- 
hausted with our hard work at the paddles. We tied 
up our boat and went to a thicket near by and slept 
soundly. 

When we awoke in the morning, we were cheered 
hy the beautiful surroundings — all just as nature had 
fashioned them, for the habitation or handiwork of 
man was nowhere to be seen. Our couch had been a 
bed of prickly grass, that caused a stinging, itching 



OUT ON THE GULF. 199 

sensation all over our bodies. We had slept in a wild 
orange grove. The shore was lined with the lemon, 
the orange, and the palm tree, besides many other vari- 
eties of which I knew nothing. The leaves of the palm 
were so large that we could lie down and completely 
cover ourselves with a single leaf. These beautiful 
groves and shores had no charms for us in the present 
case, however. We were looking for the Federal 
blockading fleet. 

We made a hasty breakfast on our fish and potatoes 
left from the night previous, and started for our boat ; 
but imagine our surprise when we found it distant at 
least two hundred yards from the water. Mark, who 
had lived in the old country, explained to me that this 
was the effect of the ocean tide, which had gone out 
since we landed, and would not come in again until 
that night. There was no safe course left us but to ■ 
drag our boat to the water, which we did, after tug- 
ging at it for about an hour. 

When we were again on the water we could see the 
spires and high buildings of the city we had passed, but 
no sight of ships could we see. We took our course as 
well as we could, and pulled for the open sea. A little 
boat, which seemed to be a fishing smack, under full 
sail, passed away to the leeward of us, coming out from 
the city, and caused us no little concern, but she passed 
off and either did not notice us or care to inquire who 
we were. We plied our paddles industriously until 
about the middle of the afternoon, when we spied an 
island away in the distance. We had been out of sight 
of land for some time, and the view of the island 
cheered us up a little, for we knew if a rough sea came 



200 A DISCOVERY IN THE DISTANCE. 

on that our little boat was liable to get swamped. This 
island was much further away than we had supposed. 
As we neared it we were in some doubt as to whether 
we should pass to the right or left of it, when our 
decision was made b}^ the discovery to the left and away 
in the distance, of something that had the appearance 
of dead trees. 

In the same direction, and right in our course, was 
somethino^ that appeared lilvc a bar or gravel bank. 
We supposed the old trees stood on another low island 
or bar beyond. But, as we neared this bar, that which 
at first seemed to be dead trees, began to take the shape 
of ship-masts, and w^e imagined that Ave could see some- 
thing that looked like the dark outlines of black smoke- 
stacks in the blue, hazy distance. This made us quite 
nervous, and we pulled away at the paddles with 
renewed vigor and strength. Before we were scarcely 
conscious of it, we were close upon the bar, and began 
to be puzzled how we should get by or around it, for it 
was longer than it appeared to be when first seen. 
Presently we discovered a narrow, shallow channel 
through it, and we were not long in getting our boat 
through. As we were going through, Mark gathered 
in a lot of rough, muddy-looking lumps, which I sup- 
posed were boulders, and soon called for my old broken- 
backed knife, after which I saw him open one of the 
muddy chunks and eat something from it. Says I : 

" Mark ! you starving Yank ! what in thunder are you 
at now. " 

*' Taste this," says lie, as he opened another muddy 
chunk, and I lapped up from the dirty shell the sweetest 
oyster I had ever tasted. 



Q 

W 
H 

O 

^^ 

Q 
Q 







A SIGHT OF THE OLD FLAG. 201 

"We were in the midst of a great oyster bed, the like 
of which I had never before seen. I had never, in 
fact, seen an oyster in the shell before. Mark gathered 
up as many as he could as the boat passed along, and 
when we reached the still w^ater, we made quite a little 
feast on them as we paddled on. I think I never 
tasted anything so delicious. We were still very 
hungry, and the moist, rich, salty flavor of the oysters 
seemed to suit our weak, famished stomachs to a nicety. 

But our little feast was soon cut short by the certain 
discovery that the dead trees were nothing less than 
the masts of vessels. We could now plainly see the 
yards, cross-trees and great smoke-stacks. AYe dropped 
the oysters in the bottom of the boat, and, though quite 
exhausted, the sight of the vessels so renewed our 
streno-th that we made the little boat scud over the still 
water at a lively rate. Soon we could see the long, 
graceful streamers waving from the peaks of the masts, 
and the outlines of the dark, sombre-looking hulls of 
the ships. 

We were now^ nearing the ships very fast, and were 
a little anxious to see their colors, as we had become so 
suspicious of everybody and everything that we half 
feared running into the clutches of our enemies. But 
we were not long in suspense, for suddenly a little 
breeze sprang up, and I shall never, no, never, forget 
my joy on seeing the old flag, the glorious old stars and 
stripes, as they unfolded to the ocean breeze and seemed 
to extend their beneficent protection over us, after 
nearly eight months of terrible bondage. We could see 
the field of blue, studded with its golden stars, and 
the stripes of white and red ! Yes, it was our flag, old 



202 



THE WILD ECSTASY OF JOY. 



EPluribus Uimm ! We threw down our paddles in the 
boptt and stood up and yelled and screamed and cried 
like a couple of foolish bo3^s lost in the woods. We 
could not restrain ourselves. Mark wanted to jump 
overboard and swim to the ships, although we were yet, 
perhaps, nearly a mile away — at least, too far to swim 
in his condition. After we recovered our senses a little 
we picked up the paddles and began rowing again, di- 
recting our course toward the largest vessel. 

It seems now like a dream to me — that joyful day — 
the most joyful, I was about to say, of my life. I be- 
lieve there Avere three vessels in sight. In steering for 
the largest one, although it was the most distant, we 
had to pass some distance in front of -the bow of a 
smaller ship or boat. We were now getting so close 
that we could plainly see the officers and men on the 
decks, in their neat, blue uniforms. We could see the 
port-holes in the sides of the ships, and the black muz- 
zles of the cannon projecting out. This gave us much 
assurance, and we said to ourselves : 

"Good bye, rebs! We are out of your clutches at 
last!" 



■'J' "■=*:- 



CHAPTER XYI. 

Hailed by the Commander of the Blockadmg Fleet — A Gruff 
Reception — Explanation of Our Appearance — Changed De- 
meanor of the Commander — Our Cadaverous Condition — 
Our Unbounded Joy — Rage of the Old Sea Veteran, Com- 
mander J. F. Grossman — A Kind and Noble Man — The Sub- 
stantial Welcome Given Us — We Start for Key West — 
Dreams of the Terrible Past — Yellow Jack Catches Me — Key 
West — The ' ' Conchs " — A Marked Contrast. 



E were rowing our insignificant-looking little boat 




right along, just as though we intended to capture 
the biggest vessel in the fleet, when a gruff voice 
from the ship, whose bow we were passing, commanded 
us to " Come to, there ! " At the same time we saw a 
grim-looking old sea-dog, in nice uniform, leaning over 
the rail, motioning us in with his hand. We turned 
the bow of our little boat toward him, and, Avhen we 
came within better speaking distance, he interrogated 
us, in stentorian voice, about as follows : 

" Who in h — 1 are you, and what are you paddling 
under my guns in this manner for ? " 

We were half terrified by the old fellow's angry, 
stern manner, and did not know but we had at last 
fallen into the hands of a rebel cruiser under false col- 
oi's. We did not know what to say to this unexpected, 
angry interrogation. We paddled on very slowly, 
while the sailors and officers began to gather in little 

(203) 



204 OUR FORLORN-LOOKIXG APPEARANCE. 

squads and look at us with mingled curiosity and mer- 
riment. 

Presently, the officer hailed us again, with about the 
same questions. I now stood up in our boat, and 
answered, that we were two men trying to get back to 
God's country, among friends. I was now quite uneasy 
and suspicious of the situation, and kept my eyes on 
the officer, for I perceived he was the commander. I 
shall never forget his stern, but puzzled look, as we 
came up under the bow of his vessel. We had been so 
overjoyed and excited, that we had forgotten to pull 
the old moss, which covered our nakedness and pro- 
tected us from the sun, from our backs, and we must 
have looked like scare-crows or swamp-dragons. I can- 
not speak so well of my own appearance then, but can 
see Mark Wood, just as he was on that joyful day, and 
a more comical, forlorn, starved-looking being cannot 
well be imagined. 

In our boat were a few cat-fish partl}^ skinned, some 
oysters in the shell, some ears of scorched corn, a lot of 
moss and our old boots, for our feet were yet sore and 
we went bare-footed when in the boat. 

After scrutinizing us in silence for some little time 
as we drifted up closer and closer, he again demanded 
of us some account of our strange conduct and appear- 
ance. I told him we were enlisted Federal soldiers, and 
belonged to the command of General O. M. Mitchell, 
in Tennessee, to which he growled something about our 
being a "d — d long ways from camp." I then explained 
to him briefly that we were fugitives, and the causes 
that led to it; that we were nearly famished with 
huno^er, and that after skulkinii^ throuo^h mountains and 



WE BOARD THE VESSEL. 205 

river by night, we Imcl at last sought protection under 
the old flag and the guns of his ship. 

I could see that his manner toward us had changed. 
He plainlv saw the indications of our distress. He 
said he had heard of the raiding expedition Ave spoke 
of, and commanded us to row up to the ladder and 
come up the ship's side. We did so, and Wood went 
uj) the steps first. The poor fellow's agitation and joy 
were so great, and he was so weak that he could 
scarcely raise his feet from step to step on the ladder, 
or stairs. The comm-ander seeing his weak, faltering 
condition, leaned over the rail, as Wood came up, and, 
reaching out, took hold to assist him, and, as he did so, 
the rotten bit of old moss, which covered Mark's shoul- 
ders and back, all pulled off and exposed his emaci- 
ated, bony skeleton, which, in truth, was nothing but 
skin and bones. The well-fed, sleek-looking sailors seemed 
to look on in horror, but not more so than the gener- 
ous-hearted commander, who was moved almost to 
tears, as he was reaching over to help me as I came to 
the top of the step-ladder. They stared at us in silent 
wonderment, while the sailors looked down into our 
little boat with comical curiosity. 

lio pen can tell my feelings when I fully realized 
that I was under the dear old flag and among friends, 
for such we found them. Mark was so overcome that 
he could scarcely speak, and so weak that he could 
hardly stand. It was with much effort that I was able 
to choke down my feelings, so that I could answer the 
few questions asked me. Pretty soon the old com- 
manders anger got the better of him, and he raved and 
swore as he paced up and down^ and stamped the deck 



206 OUR WANTS ATTENDED TO. 

until the air seemed fairly blue with bnmstone. I 
think if he co^d have gotten hold of old Jefferson Davis, 
or some other first class rebel, about that time, he would 
iiave hung him, and then tried him afterwards. 

The vessel we had boarded was the United States 
gun-boat Somerset^ of the Gulf blockading squadron, 
and the officer in command, who had taken us up, was 
Lieutenant-Commander J. F. Grossman. Peace to his 
ashes. It was with unfeigned sorrow that I learned, 
since I began writing these sketches, of his death, by 
accident, in the year 1872. A nobler, more kind- 
hearted and more sympathetic man for those in distress, 
never wore the United States uniform. He ordered us 
each a new suit of clothes, and gave orders to his cook 
to iret dinner for us. He conducted us to the cabin, 
dirty and ragged as we were, and gave us each a few 
swallows of brandy, after which, he sent us aft with 
the sailors, to wash up, which we did with soap, the 
first time we had used the article since we had left our 
comrades at Shelbyville, nearly eight months before. 
We then rigged ourselves out in sailor's clothes, after 
which we were invited to the comma,nder's cabin, where 
we took dinner with him. 

We were so hungry that we were ashamed to even 
attempt to satisfy our appetites, although we were 
made welcome to everything he had. It seemed to me 
as though I could not get filled up. The commander 
talked freely with us, and cordially invited us to staj^ 
with him until we were recruited up, but we told him 
we would like to get back as soon as possible, or to 
some part of the Federal lines where we could report, 
and, if possible, save our comrades in the Atlanta 



KIND TREATMENT. 207 

prison, if the poor fellows were not alread}^ executed. 
He told us he would be pleased to have us stay until 
we were recruited from our starved condition, and that 
we would be made welcome on his vessel, but, that if 
we insisted on going right on he would signal a cruiser 
then lying not far away, to await further orders, which 
he did. This was the large looking vessel we had been 
steering for when hailed by Commander Grossman, and 
Avhich was just ready to set sail for Key West. 

After dinner, he interviewed us further, and again 
fell into a swearing frenzy. I thought he was the mad- 
dest, most furious swearer I had ever heard or seen. 
He wrote and forwarded dispatches to the Navy, and, 
I think, to the War Department, for my understanding 
of the case, at the time, was, and is still, that Secretary 
Stanton at once took the matter in hand, and notified 
the Confederate authorities at Eichmond, that any 
further executions of the members of the Mitchell 
party would be met with prompt retaliation. My rea- 
son for thinkmg so will appear further on m my stor3\ 
The commander also gave us letters to the command- 
;ints at the naval station at Key West and other ])oints 
in our route, lie furnished us with everything he could 
think of to make us comfortable, even to a supply of 
tobacco, and with a hearty farewell liand-shake and 
wishes for better fortune in the future and a safe voy- 
ao-e, the noble old man sent us off in a boat to the 
cruiser, on whose great dark hull was lettered her name, 
/Stars and Strides. We cast many a grateful look back 
at Commander Grossman, as he leaned over the rail 
looking after us, and to the last of my life shall I asso- 
ciate his name and that of his boat, the /So?nerset, with 



208 DKEAMS OF THE DAKK PAST. 

that eventful day of my existence, when Providence 
delivered me up from a miserable bondage, and almost 
a lingering death, into the hands of so kind and gener- 
ous a friend. 

Soon after we came on board the Sta7's and Stripes, 
she took up her anchor and was under way for Key 
West, and, soon after, we were out of sight of a land 
where so many sorrows came upon us, and for which 
we had but few pleasant memories. I crept upon the 
upper deck, and for the first time in my life, gazed out 
upon the majestic ocean. I was almost dazed in grate- 
ful admiration at my changed condition and the sub- 
lime strange surroundings. Tears would come unbid- 
den in my eyes, and it all seemed a dream. At times 
I would involuntarily start up, as if to flee from the 
sight of some one. It seemed like a beautiful dream, 
too good to be true. Even while I was awake, I almost 
doubted the reality of my situation. AVhen I attempted 
to sleep I would be haunted with unpleasant visions of 
the terrible past. I could see Andrews, and hear his 
clanking chains. I could see our poor comrades who 
were executed, and the brutal officers and guards who 
dragged them away from us. My slumbers were 
haunted with visions of the old Atlanta jail, and the 
prison guards, and I could hear them shout, "Halt! 
halt ! " as plain as when I ran from them on the day 
of my escape, and sometimes in my sleeping efforts at 
running, I would wake to find myself in a lively state 
of perspiration. Tiiis mental strain had been on me so 
long, and I was, physically, so reduced, that I found it 
next to impossible to shake off the spell. My brain was 
feverish, and as the strain began to relax, I began to 



IN THE CLUTCHES OF YELLOW FEVEK. 209 

feel drowsy, my appetite ceased, and before the third 
day of the voyage, my vitality, energy and strength 
seemed almost entirely gone. I felt the insidious but 
sure clutches of fever seizing upon me. My almost 
iron constitution had been overtaxed, and was gradually 
being overcome by disease, and on the fourth day, 
when we arrived at Key West, I knew or cared but 
little what became of me. 

The surgeons pronounced my ailment yellow fever. 
I was taken to a physician's house, where I did not 
want for care and medical attendance. The place was 
garrisoned by a New York regiment, the Sixty-Ninth, 
perhaps, the officers and men of which treated us with 
great kindness and consideration. 

After the fever had run its course and under the good 
treatment I was receiving, my condition improved very 
rapidly. As soon as the disease had entirely left me, 
my ravenous appetite began to return, and I hungered 
constantly, although my stomach was so weak that I 
dare eat only the least morsel at a time, and that of the 
very lightest kind of food. I did not know but I was 
to starve in the midst of friends and abundance. I 
attributed this weak, irritated condition of my stomach 
to the eating of raw, hard corn, although the doctor 
said it came about from a combination of causes. 
During my sickness, Mark had prevailed upon the com- 
mandant at Key West to urgently renew our request 
to the Secretary of War, at Washington, to take imme- 
diate steps to save the lives, if they yet lived, of those 
of our comrades who had not been so fortunate as to 
make their escape. 
As soon as I got strong enough, I spent some time, 
14 



210 KEY WEST. 

while we were waiting for a vessel to sail, in looking 
about this wonderful sea-girt reef. Key West is 
one of the extreme westerly islands of the group 
known as the Pine Islands. It is about sixty miles 
from the southern point of Florida, and is less than one 
hundred miles from the coast of Cuba. The island is 
about five miles long, and, I judge, a couple of miles 
wide, and the land or sand and rocks do not appear to 
be more than ten feet above the ocean level. The rock 
is coral and the island, so far as soil is concerned, pre- 
sents a miserable, poor, starved appearance. There is 
a little salt lake or pond of three or four hundred acres 
on the island, and a couple of light-houses. Key West 
(jity — that is, the town of Key West, which takes its 
name from the island on which it is built — is a place, 
or was at the time of my visit, of two or three thousand 
inhabitants, the greater portion of whom are a mongrel 
set of human beings, from the Bahama islands, called 
'' Conchs." They are not a desirable people to live 
among, according to my notions of society, although I 
would prefer them to Southern Confederacy rebels, two 
to one. These Conchs are a hardy, dare-devil sort of 
people, who seem as much at home in the water as a 
muskrat or alligator. Their business in life is fishing 
and wrecking, and it was told me by white men, that 
these islanders can dive to the bottom of the ocean, if 
it is not over fifty feet deep. 

These Florida Key waters are very dangerous, and 
many an unfortunate vessel goes to the bottom or to 
pieces in this part of the Gulf every year, and these 
people sometimes do both a profitable and humane bus- 
iness in saving the crews of vessels and the cargoes. 
The air here, even in winter, is soft and balmy, and is 



AN OHIO HOME PREFERRED. 211 

said to be healthy, although it was too warm to suit 
me. The United States has a strongly fortified post, 
called Fort Taylor, on the island, which is so situated 
that it is capable of making a strong defense if assailed 
by ships of war. About sixty miles away, is another 
similar island, named Tortugas, where there is also a 
United States fort, and where a number of rebel pris- 
oners were serving out sentences of various crimes. 

These reefs and islands, and the ocean scenery and 
views, were all new and strange to me, and I was 
strongly impressed, not only with the wonders of 
Nature here, but the vastness of our country and its 
varied resources, products and climate. Here were a 
people who lived almost without need of clothing or 
houses, and on the products of the ocean, while I, who 
came from a part of the same great land and govern- 
ment, under the same flag, lived where warm clothes, 
houses and much other care was necessary for personal 
comfort, and entirely from the products grown from 
the earth, produced by a careful, assiduous round of 
labor from one season to another. Yet I would not 
swap an Ohio home, with its comfortable houses, orch- 
ards, gardens 'and privileges of schools, churches and 
society, with its regular habits and vital life and energy, 
for the luxurious, lazy, listless, useless lives, lived by 
people without necessities, without energy and without 
efifort, in the tropical and semi-tropical climates, and 
especially with the wandering, vagabond Conchs. 
When a man can get a living with his fish-hook and line, 
and requires no greater shelter than a shade tree, and his 
greatest concern and comfort is his pipe and tobacco, 
there is not much to be expected from him. 



CHAPTER XYIL 

Port Royal — Death of General O. M. Mitchell — Memories of 
the Past — A Noble and Brave Commander — Characteristics 
of Successful Generalship — General Mitchell's Confidence in 
the Success of the Enterprise — Tribute Due to Our Beloved 
Oeneral — Steaming to New York with the Body of General 
Mitchell — Our Cordial Reception — Feted Everywhere — Arri- 
val at Washington — Caught without a Pass and Imprisoned 
— A Note to the President — Immediate Release — Introduced 
to President Lincoln — His Kind Reception — An Interesting 
Interview — The President's Promise. 



f 



iHE regiment that was domfi; garrison duty on 
the island received orders to go to Port Royal^ 
■^^ while we were with them, and we took passage to 
that place on the same boat. On our arrival we learned 
;a piece of news that caused us much sorrow. Only a 
short time before, our old division commander, General 
Ormsby M. Mitchell, had breathed his last in that 
place, where he had been placed in command but a 
little while before the yellow fever seized upon him 
and carried him off. 

What a privilege it would have been to us to have 
reached the place and seen him before his death. I 
recall his almost prophetic words on that memorable 
€vening, far away in Tennessee, as beneath the canopy 
of a little clump of trees, we silently gathered about 
him to hear his last instructions to us, and at the con- 
212 



GEN. O. M. MITCHELL. 213^ 

elusion of which he shook hands with each man and 
said, as the tears seemed to start from his e3^es, " Boys, 
I fear I shall never see you again." Nor did he ever 
see one of the little band again, and I believe he died 
in the thought that our lives had all been sacrificed. 
And if he did die, so believing, it was a cause of pain 
and sorrow to him, for his was a noble, humane and 
sensitive nature, a soul of honor — too merciful to wield 
the blood V sword of a Marlborouorh or Blucher in war's 
carnage, and too honorable to sacrifice the humblest 
private in his army, to gratify ambition, or to exalt his 
own fame. Instead of being a military genius — an 
instrument of destruction and murder, as the profession 
of arms implies that a leader should be — General 
Mitchell, in my opinion, was the reverse. He sought 
to accomplish great results, great ends by far-reaching 
calculations of strategy, by means that would, if possi- 
ble, avoid the sanguinary clash of arms, and the death- 
struggle on the battle-field. 

The organ of destructiveness must be large in the suc- 
cessful soldier, and the general who lacks it, lacks one 
of the first qualifications in his profession. War is but 
the measurement of the power of brute force and strat- 
egy between two contending nations or armies, and the 
power of one or the other must be broken before there 
is a permanent and satisfactory peace. So the general 
who can inflict the greatest slaughter and destruction 
on his adversary in the shortest time is greatest in his 
profession — greatest in the art of peace, and, for ought 
I know, the greatest humanitarian, although I am 
aware my last assertion is open to enlightened contro- 
versy. 



214 Mitchell's military qualificatioxs. 

Measured by this rule, General Mitchell would not 
have taken rank among the most successful command- 
ers, although he possessed many military qualifications 
in an eminent degree. Although he was a West Point 
graduate, in the same class with Lee and Joe Johnston, 
and knew the theory of war, yet it was a profession dis- 
tasteful to him, and he had sought the more congenial 
field of letters and science, in which he distinguished 
himself. lie was, at the time of his enlistment, a pro- 
fessor of mathematics, philosophy and astronomy in a 
Cincinnati college. 

Had this unfortunate expedition, which he organized, 
been a success — and how narrowly it came to being a 
success the reader is already aware — General Mitchell 
would have been at once pronounced one of the best 
military strategists of the war, and his name and fame 
would have stood pre-eminent among military command- 
ers. Even as it was, the rebels feared him, for, as they 
often said, there was never any telling what devilment 
''old star-gazing Mitchell " was up to. For the energy and 
enterprise he displayed in this independent command 
of a division, in which he accomplished large, though 
temporary, results. President Lincoln made him a 
Major General. He was a good judge of men ; he w\as 
prompt and decisive, and foresaw events, almost with 
the power of intuition, and the details of Iiis plans were 
made out almost with mathematical precision, and in 
this last was he very liable to be often at fault. Mili- 
tary operations must always be adjusted, or adjust them- 
selves, to circumstances, weather, roads, and the move- 
ments of the enemy included. 

General Mitchell had as much confidence in the sue- 



THE MISCALCULATION. 215 

cess of our expedition, as a general could have. He 
was even enthusiastic, because he had planned it all 
out "with all the careful details that he would in fore- 
telling the coming of a comet or an eclipse, and yet 
something told him — forewarned him — that there was 
miscalculation somewhere — that we w^ere doomed 
men — that he should never see us again, and, in the 
honesty of his nature, he told us so. He had implicit 
confidence in Andrews — in his fidelity, courage and 
sagacity. As showing General Mitchell's anxiety for 
the success of the expedition and the importance he 
attached to it, he promised Andrews fifty thousand dol- 
lars reward if he succeeded, although of this we knew 
nothing at the time, and Andrews would have received 
the money, for General Mitchell would never have made 
such a promise without assurance from some higher au- 
thority, probably the Secretary of War, or the Chief 
Agent of the Secret Service fund. The General believed 
that we would capture the train at Big Shanty as much 
as he believed in his existence, and he cautioned 
Andrews to avoid bloodshed if possible — not to kill 
the engineer and fireman if their lives could be spared. 
He, on his part, was prompt and on time in liis advance 
movement on the railroad near Huntsville, but he had 
miscarried in one of the plainest and simplest matters — 
namely, giving sufficient time for our journey to Mari- 
etta, or rather, to Chattanooga. The heavy rains 
w^hich suddenly came and the swollen rivers had not 
been included in his careful plan. It was a slight but 
fatal miscalculation. 

I have been led into these comments, for which I ask 
the reader's pardon, in order to place more fully before 



216 FROM PORT ROYAL TO NEW YORK. 

all the exact relation which General Mitchell bore to 
this expedition. I have heard him condemned for per- 
mitting it, and have heard him charged with reckless- 
ness and selfish ambition for distinction, but I believe 
the reader, after having all the facts placed before him, 
will agree with me in my estimate of his honorable 
character. So far as my criticism of his soldierly gen- 
ius goes, it is only my opinion — the humble opinion of 
a private soldier — and if I have erred in judgment, 
there are plenty of abler cotemporary soldier pens to 
correct me. I have felt this much due to the patriotic, 
loval man who gave existence to the ill-fated adven- 
ture, in the carr3ang out of which I and my comrades 
suffered so much. Peace to his noble spirit. 

We found good quarters at Port Royal and were 
ro3^ally treated by the eastern soldiers who were sta- 
tioned there, and who understood and had the conveni- 
ences for making thamselves about as comfortable as 
soldiers could well be. We soon got a chance to ship 
by small steamer to Hilton Head, twelve miles away, 
and soon after shipped thence to Xew York, on a large 
transport steamer, Tlie Star of the South, which was in 
Government emplo}''. On board was also the coffin 
containing the last remains of General Mitchell, which 
was being sent to his friends in Ohio. We had a pleas- 
ant voyage to New York, but did not stay long in the 
great, busy metropolis. Commander Grossman, and in 
fact, the officers at all the stations, had advised us to 
go immediately to Washington, and personally see the 
Secretary of War, and lay all the facts we were in pos- 
session of before him. So we secured transportations, 
at military headquarters in New York, to AVashington. 



EOTAL RECEPTION IX BALTIMORE. 217 

"We were detained in Baltimore, as we went throuirli, 
until the Commissary General could find time to fix up 
our papers. The people were so hospitable, and 
ofiicers, soldiers and ever^^body else treated us 
so well, that we remained for a couple of days. The 
newspaper men got hold of us, and soon it was 
noised everywhere that two of Mitchell's spies and 
bridge-burners had arrived direct from the heart 
of old Jeff's dominions, and Mark and I used 
to read the startling headlines with many a broad, 
good laugh to ourselves. We had free tickets to the 
theatres, museums and other public places, free rides 
and free lunches, and we began to wonder if we were 
not " bigger men than old Grant," or some other general. 

But we had a great anxiety to get back to the regi- 
ment and learn how the fortunes of war had been with 
our old comrades and if any of the poor fellows who 
had broke jail with us had ever reached " God's coun- 
try." All these things were a sealed book to us. We 
knew that battles had been fought, and that many a 
comrade had fallen. Any soldier, who has ever been a 
prisoner, will remember what an anxiet}^ there is after 
months of absence, to learn the fate of those in the 
regiment at the front. It was so with us, and from the 
hour we came out within railroad communication of the 
army, I was restless and wanted to get back, and each 
day my anxiety increased. 

When we arrived in Washington, Mark went to the 
Soldiers' Home to take up temporary quarters, and I 
started out to find the Commissary-General's ofiice, to 
get transportation for us to our regiment, after which 
we proposed calling at the War Department. I thought- 



218 BEHIND THE BAKS AGAIN. 

lessly started out without a pass, not having been used 
to the strict patrol regulations in force in "Washington 
at that time, and, as a natural consequence, had not gone 
far before I was confronted by a squad of nicely-dressed 
Provost guards, with bright new muskets, who "took 
me in," and not long after I had the mortification to 
see a prison door again closed on my liberty. 

I did some audible soliloquizing after I was locked 
up, and it was not complimentary to Provost guards in 
general, nor to Washington in particular. What a 
reception, thought I, right here in the capital city of 
" God's country !" I almost wished I had remained at 
Baltimore. The most perplexing part of my dilemma 
was, that I did not know who to apply to, to get 
released. There was so much red tape about Washing- 
ton military affairs, that I knew I was liable to spend 
several days and nights in the prison, if I went through 
the regulation course. It made me fairly boil over with 
vexation. 

But a happy thought struck me. I had heard that 
President Lincoln was a very patient, kind man, and 
would give a hearing to a private soldier almost as read- 
ily as to an officer. I called for the officer in charge of 
the prison, who came in. lie was a starchy, important 
kind of a man, who had, judging from appearances, 
never smelt rebel powder, unless it might, perhaps, have 
been on a woman's face, and was disposed to treat me 
as such officials were too much in the habit of treatino: 
private soldiers. He impatiently demanded to know 
" \vtat I wanted." 

I said, " Will you oblige me by sending me pen, ink 
and paper 



'?" 



RELEASED BY PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 219 

"What do you want with paper?" said he. 

" To write to the President," said I. 

" And what in h — 1 have you to do with the Presi- 
dent," said he. 

I said, "It is no part of your duty or business to 
inquire into the matter.'^ 

He looked at me for a moment, and then condescend- 
ingly said, " All right, I will see that your wishes are 
complied with." 

I hastily wrote a note, about as follows : 

Mr. President: — I have just arrived in the city, fresh from a 
long imprisonment in Atlanta, Georgia, from which place of con- 
finement I took *' French leave." The Provost guards have impris- 
oned me here, because I was found without a pass, in which, I 
suppose, they did but their duty. I know of no officer or friend 
in the city to whom I can apply for help. Can you do anything 
for me ? If you can, you will greatly oblige your friend. 

JOHN A. WILSON, 
Of the Twenty-First Ohio Volunteer Infantnj. 

The messenger who took the note, which was 
addressed on the envelope, "A. Lincoln, President,'' 
had not been gone more than half an hour, until the 
prison-door opened, and the starchy officer called my 
name. I came forward, and a pleasant, gentlemanly 
man, dressed in the clothes of a civilian, asked me if my 
name was "Wilson. When I said it was, he took me by 
the hand and bid me walk out, at the same time hand- 
ing the officer a written order for my release. The 
gentleman, who, probably, was the President's private 
secretary, told me that Mr. Lincoln requested that I 
should come and see him, and, that if I would accom- 
pany him, he would show me the way, and see that the 



220 KINDNESS OF THE TRESIDENT. 

Provost guards did not molest me. When we arrived 
at the White House, my escort said, addressing Mr. 
Lincoln, " Mr. President, this is Mr. Wilson, one of the 
Mitchell railroad-raiders, who has just escaped from 
prison." The President came forward and took me by 
the hand, much in the manner a father would on receiv- 
ins: a lon<2: lost son. He said : 

'' Mr. Wilson, it affords me great pleasure to take you 
by the hand, and I thank God that your life has been 
spared." 

He then conducted me forward to a table, where 
several gentlemen sat, to whom he introduced me, after 
which he showed me a seat. I was somewhat embar- 
rassed, but I remember that Secretaries Seward and 
Chase were of the number. Mr. Seward, I recollect, 
seemed to be a serious, thoughtful looking okl man, 
who said but very little, but listened attentively to 
the others. Mr. Lincoln sat down near me and mani- 
fested as much interest in me as if I had been an old 
and valued acquaintance. He congratulated me and my 
comrades for the spirit, determination and devotion we 
had shown, and the good luck which enabled us to 
escape. He seemed perfectly familiar with all the de- 
tails of our expedition — the cause of its failure, and 
the good results that would have arisen from its success, 
" What a pity," continued the President, " that General 
Mitchell did not give 3^ou boj^s one more day to make 
3^our journey in. Had he done so, I have no doubt you 
would have succeeded. You all did your dut}'' bravely 
and nobly and have suffered bitterly for it. The coun- 
try owes each survivor a debt of gratitude, for which 
he should be suitably rewarded." 



THE president's PROMISE. 221 

I told the President that my business in coming to 
Washington was to see him or the Secretary of War, 
and ask them to intercede for those of the expedition 
who were yet in captivity. He told me that Com- 
mander Grossman's dispatches had arrived at the War 
Department, and that steps had already been taken in 
behalf of the captives, by Secretary Stanton. He said 
that not another man of them should be harmed if the 
power of the Government could prevent it. '' When 
you go back to your regiment," said the President, 
" tell your comrades, and tell them to send word to the 
friends of those men of the expedition now imprisoned, 
that Secretary Stanton, and through him the Govern- 
ment, has done, and is doing, and will continue to do, 
all that can be done to have them treated as regular 
prisoners of war, even if measures of retaliation are 
necessar}^" 

In this declaration, as in all things he said and did, 
I believe the noble President was sincere, and I have 
no doubt, thought as sacredly of his word to me, an 
obscure private soldier, as he would if given to any 
influential general, or civil official. Of one thing I am 
certain. The men were never executed, but were treated 
like other prisoners, so far as I could learn. As he shook 
hands with me, when I took my leave, Mr. Lincoln said, 
" Each member of your expedition shall have a commis- 
sion, and if the Governor of Ohio does not give you a 
commission, Mr. Wilson, I will give you a lieutenant's 
commission in the regular army." 

A man was sent with me to the Commissary-Gen- 
eral's office, where I secured passes and transportation 
for Mark and myself to go to our regiment, or to stop 



222 BACK TO OUR KEGIMENT. 

in Ohio until we received orders from the regiment, as 
we saw proper. We decided to go right through to 
the army of the Cumberland, as fast as we could, stop- 
ping only in Ohio long enough to shake hands with our 
friends and let them know that we were yet in the land 
of the living, and also to get a little money to bear our 
incidental expenses on our journey southward. 



CIIAPTEE XYIII. 

Returning to the Regiment — Back to the Army of the Cum- 
berland — The Greeting of Old Comrades — Meeting with 
Captain Fry — History of Different Members of Our Paiiy — 
Interesting Account from Wm. J. Knight — J. R. Porter's 
Account — Whereabouts of other Comrades of the Expedition 
— A Few Words Personal — Medal and Extra Pay — Concluding 
Words — A Hope that the Spirit of Rebellion is at an End. 

Jff E reached our regiment a few da3^s after the battle 

AaK of Stone Eiver. The men were camped near 

{^ Miirfreesboro, and only about twenty miles from 

Shelby ville, where we had left them nine months before. 

Our old comrades received us almost as two who had 

come to them from the dead. 

They were not more rejoiced than we were, for after 
so long an absence and the many ups and downs and 
rough experiences we had met in the Confederacy, we 
felt, indeed, about as much joy and gratitude as two 
fellows could well live through in one day. Many 
beloved comrades, whose voices and faces were once 
familiar about the camp-fire and mess, Avere absent to 
come back no more. They slept their last long sleep, 
among the new-made graves, over in the cedars yonder. ' 
Their lives went out amid the din of battle, on the 
bloody field of Stone Eiver. The remembrance of 
those absent ones, never to come again to roll-call with 
us, made me feel sad, but there is almost always some 

(223) 



22i CAPTAm DAVID FRY, AGAIN. 

silver lining to the dark clouds in a soldier's life, and so 
it was with us. 

One of the pleasantest surprises in store for me, was 
nothing less than the meeting with Captain Fry, " The 
noblest Eoman of them all," whom I supposed was cer- 
tainly dead. What a change had come over him since, 
bareheaded, starved, ragged and bony, I saw him seize 
Turner, the jailer, at the prison-door, on that never-to- 
be-forgotten night, and hold him with the linn grip of 
a giant. Then, afterwards, as I ran for my life, away 
out, nearly a half mile from the prison, I caught a 
glimpse of Captain Fry, staggering and stumbling, as 
if about to fall, as I supposed, from the effects of a 
bullet- wound. ISTow, as I saw him, he w\as a robust^ 
w^ell-fed, soldierly, noble-looking man, but in heart, cour- 
age, manliness and nobility of character, the same man 
who had been our faithful comrade in prison. As a soldier, 
possessing great rugged qualities of mind and heart, he 
would have been a fit associate for Frederick the Great. 
He was with his regiment, the Tliird Tennessee, when 
1 last saw him, and I know of few men living to-day 
(if he is living), for whom I entertain greater respect 
than Captain David Fry. 

As the reader, who has followed my story thus far, will 
have an interest in knowing the fate of all our party of 
raiders who broke jail, I will as briefly and as correctly 
as possible, speak of each. Of our party of twenty- 
two, who had landed at Marietta, eight, as will be 
remembered, had been hung, leaving fourteen, w^ho 
were in the Atlanta prison at the time of the break. 
Of these, eight made good their escape, and, after untold 
liardships and suffering, reached the Federal lines. 



ROSTER OF THE ESCAPED. 225 

Their names and present places of residence as far as I 
know, are as follows : 

M, J. Hawkins, residence unknown. 

D. A. Dorsey, JS'ebraska. 

^y. W. Brown, Wood County, Ohio. 

William J. Knight, North Pacific Junction, Minnesota. 

John Wollam, residence unknown. 

John H. Porter, Carlisle, Arkansas. 

Mark Wood, deceased. 

These, with myself, include all who made good their 
escape. Brown, Knight and Mason kept together at 
the time of their flight from the prison, and from a very 
interesting account of his escape, sent me by Mr. Knight 
since I began the publication of these sketches, and who 
will be remembered as one of our engineers, I make an 
extract as follows : 

WILLIAM J. KNIGHT'S ACCOUNT. 

"We broke jail October IG, 1862, and scattered and 
scampered for the woods. • W. W. Brown, E. H. Mason 
and myself, all of the Twenty-First Ohio Infantry, were 
together. The first night out. Mason took sick, and we 
did not get far, but kept well hidden. We were three 
days within nine miles of Atlanta. On the third night, 
Mason was so bad that we were compelled to go to a 
house with him, and began to despair of making good 
our escape; but he told us to leave him and save our- 
selves. Just as we had finished a hasty meal in the 
kitchen, three men came in at the front door to arrest 
us. They asked us if we were not some of the pris- 

15 



226 BAY AGE BATTLE WITH HOUNDS. 

oners who broke jail in Atlanta. "We told them we 
were. They said they had come to take us back, and 
that there was no use trying to escape, as all the roads 
and bridges were guarded. 

"Brown was mad in an instant, and ripped out a 
very blunt reply. He said, * I'll be d — d if you take 
us back, now see if you do ! ' At this Brown and I 
sprang out of the back door and ran round the end of 
the house and down a fence in the direction of some 
woods. They ran out of the front door with their shot- 
guns and bawled out, * Halt ! halt ! ' as we were leaving 
them on a 2:40 run. They straddled their horses and 
galloped out on a by-road from the house to the main 
road, while the man where we had stayed, unloosed his 
hounds, and they were soon on our trail in full cry. 
We had changed our course to baffle the horsemen, for 
there was a hill to go down and another to ascend 
before we got across the plantation and to the woods 
beyond. The men could not see us, but the cry of the 
doo-s told our course, and before we had reached the 
woods the whole pack were closing on us. The field 
was full of loose stones, and we hastily chose the best 
place we could, and engaged in a savage combat with 
the dogs, in which we were victorious, crippling and 
driving away the whole pack in short order, after which 
we started again on full run. 

" We could, by this time, see the horsemen coming 
round to head us off. We changed our course and 
threw them off again. The hounds followed at a long 
distance, and, by their howling, indicated our course, 
but did not come near enough to molest us. We kept 



SKIRMISHING FOR SOMETHING TO EAT. 227 

see-sawing and tacking to avoid the horsemen, who 
were doing their best to head us off, until, at last, we 
came to a little creek, in which we waded a couple of 
hours, and in this way caused the dogs to lose us. That 
day we reached Stone Mountain, eighteen miles east of 
Atlanta. After that we traveled nights, going due 
northward, with the north star for our guide. From 
our hiding places in the daytime we frequently saw 
scouting parties patroling the country, no doubt for 
the jail fugitives. 

*^ "We crossed the Chattahooche, October twenty -sixth, 
on rails tied together with bark. From the house 
where we left Mason, and ate breakfast in the kitchen, 
we were six days without food, except nuts and brush. 
On the seventh day Ave caught a goose and ate it raw, 
and on the same day found a few ears of corn left in 
the field by the buskers. This lasted until a day or 
so after, when we found a tree of apples which had not 
been gathered, probably because of their worthlessness. 
But they tasted good to us, and w^e filled up on them, 
and carried awav all we could. 

'' Fortunately for us, the same day we discovered a 
drove of young hogs in the woods. I hid behind a tree 
with a club, and Brown tolled a confiding pig up near 
me, by biting off bits of apple and tossing them to it, 
backing up, meantime, until the young porker came with- 
in reach of my stick, when I murdered it. We split it 
up with a knife we had made from a piece of thin iron 
from a shovel handle, which iron we had sharpened by 
rubbing it on a stone. That night we found where 
some men had been clearing and burning, and we had 



228 SAFE OUT CF KEBEL CLUTCHES. 

a feast of cooked pork, without seasoning, but we en- 
joyed it without complaint, for, except the goose and 
corn, we had eaten only five meals in twenty-one days. 
The pig lasted us until we reached the Iliawasse River, 
near the corner of North Carolina. 

"This was an intolerably rough country, and we 
traveled hard for four days, ^and only gained eight 
miles, during which time we saw no one, either to mo- 
lest us or let us alone, and we were tramping along 
pretty bravely. We were crossing a little old clearing, 
which had a deserted appearance, when we came unex- 
pectedly and suddenly out in front of a log house, 
where two men stood on the porch. They saw us and 
it was too late for us to dodge, so we tried to appear 
indifferent, and went up and asked if we could get din- 
ner. AYe told them we were rebel soldiers, who had 
been on the sick list, and were trying to get back to 
our regiment. They said we could have dinner, and as 
we sat down to eat, the woman of the house, who 
seemed to be the mother of the two men, eyed us pretty 
closely. She was very talkativ^e, and it was not long- 
before she accused us of being Yanks. To make quite 
a long story short, we soon found each other out. They 
were loyal, true people, who fed and secreted us and 
sent us on to other friends, who in turn helped us to 
others, and so on, until we arrived at Somerset, Ken- 
tucky, about November twenty-fifth, from which place 
we reached Louisville, and from there by railroad to 
Nashville, near which place our old comrades and regi- 
ment lay, and where the boys received us with three 
times three and a tiger. Thus ended our adventures." 



JOHN K. porter's ACCOUNT. 229 

Mr. John E. Porter, formerly of Wood County, but 
now residing in Prairie County, Arkansas, publishes 
the following account of his adventures from the time 
the train left Marietta until he was imprisoned in 
Chattanooga : 

JOHN E. POETEE^S ACCOUNT. 

^' Through some mistake or negligence of the hotel 
porter we were not called in time for the train, as it 
left quite earl}^, although we arrived at the depot in 
time to see the train before it was out of sight. We 
gazed intently until the smoke of the iron-horse dis- 
appeared in the morning twilight. I cannot describe 
my feelings at that moment. I glanced at Hawkins, 
who appeared to be as mucli bewildered as m3^self. 
There we were in the heart of the Confederac}^, know- 
ing that if we were suspected of anything wrong 
death would be our portion. We could hardly make 
up our minds how to meet the emergency as we had to 
be very careful not to make any move that would 
create suspicion. 

" Then we leisurely strolled about the town expect- 
ing every moment to hear of the capture of the train. 
Nor did we have to wait long, for the news soon 
reached the town that a train had been captured at Big 
Shanty, while the passengers and crew were at break- 
fast, and it Avas done so quickly and easily that they 
could not imagine who did the deed, or what it meant. 
Soon everything was wild with excitement, and the 
town was thronged with excited rebels, waiting to hear 
further developments regarding the wild .train, as it 



230 JOIN THE REBEL AKMY. 

was termed. Hawkins and I concluded to skip out, 
one at a time, though keeping sight of each other, and 
make our way to the country unmolested, if possible. 
In this we succeeded, and after reaching a piece of 
woods we came together, congratulated ourselves upon 
our success thus far, but what to do next we hardly 
knew. We felt certain that the chances for our getting 
away in the present state of excitement, were not the 
best, and after much hesitation and doubt we deter- 
mined to go to Big Shanty or Camp McDonald, as it 
was a rebel camp of instruction, and join the rebel 
army, and thus be enabled to make our escape, when 
sent to the front, by deserting a picket-post or taking 
the first opportunity that might offer for escape in any 
way. We proceeded on our wa}^ intending to reach 
Camp McDonald about sundown, thinking perhaps that 
by this time the excitement would be somewhat sub- 
sided. 

"We came in sight of the town late in the day and 
marched into camp and reported at headquarters. Here 
we found several rebel officers, one of whom, who bore 
the marks of a Colonel, turned his attention to us. 
After a short interview, which seemed plausible to him, 
he ordered us to report to the commanding officer of 
the Ninth Georgia Battalion for enlistment. One of 
the companies, not being full, was called into line and 
took a vote whether or not we should be received into 
the company. The vote was unanimous in our favor, 
and we, after giving fictitious names, were assigned to 
a certain mess for our suppers. After supper we made 
the acquaintance of some of our new mess-mates, 
relating, dismal stories of our treatment by the ' Yankee * 



IN A CLOSE CORNER. 231 

hirelings in Kentucky, which made a good impression 
on our comrades as to our lo^^alty to the Confederacy. 

"Everything went all right with us until in some 
manner it leaked out among the rebels that the Yankee 
raiders, by mistake or accident, had left two of their 
party at Marietta. How this information got out I 
never learned, but it could not be otherwise than that 
some one of our party had in discreetly told more than 
he ought to when captured / who the man was we never 
learned. The excitement ran very high, and we dis- 
covered, when it was too late, that w^e had run into the 
very jaws of danger, for immediately w^e fell under 
suspicion and were sent to headquarters and there 
ordered to give a truthful account of ourselves, under 
the penalty of death if we lied. We were taken into 
a room, one at a time, and interviewed by a number of 
rebel officers — Hawkins first and myself afterwards. 
"When Hawkins came out I saw at a glance that some- 
thing was wTong ; but my turn had come and I took 
my seat in the room, confronted by six Confederate 
ofiicers, wiien I put on the boldest front I could. 

" One of the officers, a Colonel, took me in hand and 
began by first inquiring my name, which I did not give 
in full, as I had given my name John Eeed when I 
enlisted. He proceeded in his order of examination as 
best suited him, and I answered as best suited myself, 
just the reverse of what they desired. Finally, others 
of the party commenced asking questions and I found 
that I was in a pretty tight place. On various occa- 
sions during nearly four years of army life I experi- 
enced some pretty close calls, and run the gauntlet 
frequently, but this was a little the closest corner I ever 



232 AN INFURIATED MOB. 

got into. They were very menacing and abusive^ 
expecting, I suppose, to scare me into a confession. 

"The Colonel finally said, ^Mr. Keed, you stand 
there thrice damned. You may make your peace with 
your God, but you never can with Jeff. Davis, and we 
ought to hang you without any further ceremony.' 

"I was permitted to return to the room with 
Hawkins, where we were closely guarded, and w^ere 
not allowed to converse with each other. The word 
soon spread through the camp that we were ' Yankees,' 
and belonged to the railroad party. In a short time 
the building was surrounded with an excited mob that 
demanded our immediate execution — some threatening 
to shoot us and some to hang us before we should leave 
there. As they still gathered around, the excitment 
increased, until they placed a heavy guard around the 
building, and the crowd soon began to disperse, intent 
upon a fresh attack at night. 

" As soon as the first train came along going South, 
we were put aboard under guard and sent to Marietta, 
where we were hand-cuffed and chained together by 
the end of a trace-chain being placed around the neck 
of each and locked with padlocks. Then, to make 
assurance doubly sure, we were placed in an inner cell 
of the jail for safe keeping during the night. The 
news soon spread through the town of our arrival, and, 
in a short time an infuriated mob gathered around the 
jail and demanded our release, that they might wreak 
out their vengeance upon us, otherwise they would burn 
the jail. As the night wore on the crowd increased 
until they finally placed another heavy guard around 
the jail; that somewhat allayed our fears for the 



WHEREABOUTS OF THE SURVIVORS. 2S3 

remainder of the night. That night, with its black- 
ness and darkness, will long be remembered by me as I 
hardly closed my eyes during the night, and it seemed 
as though morning never would come. When it did 
come, however, the jail was again surrounded by 
curiosity seekers and a mob-spirited crowd, to see the 
wild ' Yankees,' as they called us. 

" During the morning we were hurried to the depot 
under a strong guard to protect us from the mob, and 
were put aboard for Chattanooga, where we were 
put mto * old Swim's hotel,' or more properly ' the hole,' 
where we found eight of our old comrades who had 
preceded us into this horrible den." 



John E. Porter, also of the Twenty-First Eegiment, 
and John WoUam, of the Thirty-Third, who passed so 
near to where Wood and I lay under the bushes on the 
night of the escape, struck westward, and after one 
month and two days of almost incredible hardship, 
reached the Federal lines at Corinth, Mississippi. 

Hawkins and Dorsey, of the Thirty-Third Regiment, 
after a very similar experience of hunger and privation, 
reached some Union friends in the Cumberland moun- 
tains, who aided them to reach the Federal forces in 
Kentucky. - * - --» 

Mason, of the Twenty-First, now a resident of this 
State, who escaped with Brown and Knight, and was 
taken sick, was recaptured, as also was William Een- 
singer, of the same regiment, and who is also a resident 
of Ohio. 



234 BEBEL BRUTALITY. 

Of the other four of the six who did not succeed in 
making good their escape, I have but little present 
information. Eobert Buffum, poor fellow, once an 
enthusiastic anti-slavery soldier and compatriot with 
old John Brown, in Kansas, died, I regret to learn, by 
his own hand, some three years since. 

Jacob Parrott, the heroic young soldier who was so 
brutally whipped, is a resident of Kenton, Ohio, and is 
physically, like most of the others of the party, a mere 
wreck, with broken health. 

I have no tidings of William Eeddick, of the Thirty- 
Third Kegiment. 

William Pittenger, of the Second Ohio Kegiment, I 
learn, is leading a useful life in the ministry at Yine- 
land, N^ew Jersey. These six prisoners were changed 
to a safer prison, and through the efforts, no doubt, of 
the War Department and Secretary Stanton, were 
afterwards sent to Kichmond, from which latter place 
they were sent out to Fortress Monroe, in the latter 
part of March, 1SG3, almost a year from the time they 
were captured, when they were regularly exchanged 
with other prisoners. 

Several prisoners from East Tennessee made their 
escape at the same time, whom I have never heard of 
since. One poor fellow, named Barlow, was shot 
through the knee in the fight with the guards at the 
jail, or had his leg broken in some manner. The rebel 
guards bayoneted him back into prison, and let him die 
bv inches, refusing him any medical attendance. His 
sufferings must have been terrible. Mr. Pittenger, in 
his published account, says that the commandant. 
Colonel Lee, in giving orders to those troops whom he 



A FEW WORDS PERSONAL. 235 

sent in pursuit of the escaped prisoners, said to them, 
"Don't take one of the villains alive! Shoot them 
down, and let them lie in the woods for the hogs to 
eat!" Mr. Pittenger was told shortly after, that sev- 
eral of the escaped men had been shot and left in the 
woods. But, fortunately, this was not true. Yet it 
seems almost marvelous that some were not killed out- 
right at the jail, and that more than half of our number 
escaped, when the distance to the Federal lines is con- 
sidered. 

N'ow a few words personal, for which I beg the 
readers pardon, and I am done. After joining my 
regiment I was detailed for detached duty, and 
remained at Fort Eosecrans, Murfreesboro, during the 
remainder of my term of enlistment, at the expiration 
of which I was discharged, at Atlanta, Georgia, in 1864. 
Each member of our party, by act of Congress, received 
a medal. We also were given $100 extra pay, which was 
presented by General Rosecrans, at his headquarters, 
in Murfreesboro. I do not know whether the money 
was sent us by act of Congress, or was a private dona- 
tion from Secretaries Chase and Stanton. I have heard 
the matter stated both ways. 

I have been asked, since I began publishing this 
story, if I ever received a commission or a pension. I 
have never received either. I suppose there is a com- 
mission, of old date, for me in the Adjutant General's 
office of Ohio. I have never called for it. When I 
came out of the army, I was unfit for service, and did 
not consider mj^self fit for a soldier, either as officer 
or private. Some of our party received their commis- 
sions, and others never had a chance to apply for them, 



236 WOED OF WARNING. 

or, if they did, never cared enough about them to reap 
the benefit. 

Before concluding this final chapter, I wish to avail 
myself of the opportunity to thank the editor and 
employees of the Wood County Sentinel for their 
patience, kindness and forbearance in the publication of 
my sketches, and to the correspondents and many 
readers of the Sentinel for their appreciative, indulgent, 
kind, encouraging notices and words. 

My story has been rather a long one — longer than I 
intended. It has been mostly a story of sorrow and 
suffering — "a cloud w^ithout a silver lining," but I 
could not tell it truthfully and have it otherwise ; gladly 
would I have had it different. This story of hardship 
tells but a millionth part of what the w^ar cost this 
people, and w^ere I to be summoned to my last earthly 
account to-day, it would be a soothing consciousness to 
know — to feel, that the deadly strife which ceased at 
Appomattox Court House will never appear anew, 
under any other form, backed and sustained by the 
same rankling, anti-loyal spirit, w^hose hatred knew no 
limits in brutal deeds of blood, less than a score of years 
ago. I fear that the same blood-thirsty passion still 
slumbers. The bitterness and anguish of defeat and 
disappointment still rankle and burn in Ambition's 
blighting, destroying crucible. Give these men the 
power, and the most sanguine friends of an undivided 
government will have cause to tremble. 

I am not unforgiving ; I am not revengeful. 1 was so 
once, and I have sought those w^ho wronged me, and 
murdered my comrades in cold blood, with violent 
intent. I felt that they ought to be punished. I am 



CX)NCHISION. 237 

willing to forgive much of the past ; but the Christian 
spirit of forgiveness is one thing, and trusting one's 
self in the hands of a bitter, treacherous, deadly enemy 
is quite another. Go to the heart of the late Confed- 
eracy, and see and feel the crushing, murderous, grind- 
ing despotism, born of ignorance and hatred of free 
institutions, as I have, and, dear friend and patient 
reader, you will agree with me that it is not safe to be 
hasty in putting those men in power in high places. It 
is this tendency in our Government, and in the two 
great political parties of the day, that makes me say 
that I would like to feel certain that rebellious strife 
will never be renewed. I pray that it may not be. 



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